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UNIVERSITY 


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SOME  PROBLEMS 

OF  THE 

PEACE  CONFERENCE 

BY 

CHARLES  HOMER  HASKINS 

AND 

ROBERT  HOWARD  LORD 


& 


+>  y  z7  3  ^ 


CAMBRIDGE 

HARVARD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

{ 

LONDON:  HUMPHREY  MILFORDi 
OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 


1920 


COPYRIGHT,  1920 
HARVARD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 


PRINTED  IN  THE  IT.  S.  A. 


a.  H-fJ -***'-**( 

».X,L  IS^nrw^ 

v  No. 

*S»  u 

I^aOn 


TO 

ARCHIBALD  CARY  COOLIDGE 


PREFACE 


The  purpose  of  the  lectures  here  published  is  to 
give  a  rapid  survey  of  the  principal  elements  in 
that  territorial  settlement  of  Europe  which  nas 
been  pronounced  “the  most  reasonable  part  of 
the  work  of  the  Conference”1  of  Paris.  Each 
problem  is  placed  in  its  historical  setting,  while  at 
the  same  time  the  effort  is  made  to  view  it  as  some¬ 
thing  demanding  practical  solution  in  the  treaties 
of  peace.  The  perspective  of  proceedings  as  seen 
at  Paris  has  been  kept  in  mind  throughout, 
although  the  authors  have  not  felt  at  liberty  to 
enter  into  the  details  of  negotiations  which  may 
have  become  known  to  them  in  their  official  capac¬ 
ity.  Limits  of  time  and  space  restrict  the  treat¬ 
ment  to  Europe,  and  to  those  parts  of  Europe 
which  came  before  the  Conference  for  settlement. 
Hence  Russia  is  necessarily  omitted. 

The  lectures  are  printed  substantially  as  deliv¬ 
ered  at  the  Lowell  Institute  last  January,  with 
only  incidental  revision.  In  the  spelling  of  place 
names  the  official  local  usage  has  been  followed 
except  where  there  is  a  well  established  English 
form. 

The  first  four  chapters  were  prepared  by  Mr. 
Haskins,  the  last  four  by  Mr.  Lord. 

Where  material  has  been  gathered  from  such  a 
variety  of  sources,  detailed  acknowledgment  is 

1  Charles  Seignobos,  in  The  New  Europe ,  March  25,  1920. 

vii 


Vlll 


PREFACE 


impossible.  The  bibliographical  notes  at  the  end 
of  the  several  chapters  are  meant  merely  to  indi¬ 
cate  the  more  obvious  references  for  readers  who 
may  wish  to  follow  out  particular  topics.  The 
authors  desire  to  express  their  indebtedness  to 
their  colleagues  on  the  ‘Inquiry’  and  the  terri¬ 
torial  section  of  the  American  Commission  to 
Negotiate  Peace,  and  their  appreciation  of  many 
courtesies  from  the  experts  of  the  Allied  delega¬ 
tions.  They  are  under  special  obligations  to  the 
hospitality  of  the  American  Geographical  Society 
and  its  Director,  Dr.  Isaiah  Bowman.  Mr.  George 
W.  Robinson  has  made  valuable  suggestions  in 
correcting  the  proof  sheets.  While  grateful  for 
assistance  from  many  sources,  each  of  the  authors 
bears  sole  responsibility  for  the  opinions  he  has 
here  expressed. 


Cambridge ,  May  15,  1920. 


C.  H.  H. 
R.  H.  L. 


CONTENTS 


I 

Tasks  and  Methods  of  the  Conference  3-35 

The  Tasks .  3 

The  Problem  of  Frontiers .  10 

Organization  of  the  Conference  ....  23 

Bibliographical  Note .  33 

II 

Belgium  and  Denmark . 37-73 

Schleswig .  37 

The  Kiel  Canal  and  Heligoland  ...  46 

Belgium .  48 

Position  at  the  Conference .  49 

Malmedy,  Eupen,  and  Moresnet  .  .  54 

Luxemburg  .  57 

Limburg  and  the  Scheldt .  60 

Bibliographical  Note .  72 

III 

Alsace-Lorraine  . 75-116 

The  Historical  Background .  75 

The  Franco-German  Debate .  84 

The  Armistice  and  the  Treaty  ....  105 

Bibliographical  Note .  1 1 5 


IX 


X 


CONTENTS 


IV 

The  Rhine  and  the  Saar . 1 17-152 

The  Rhine .  117 

The  Left  Bank  123 

The  Saar  Basin .  132 

Bibliographical  Note  ! .  151 


V 

Poland . 1 53-200 

The  Resurrection  of  Poland .  153 

The  Western  Frontier  and  Danzig  .  .  172 

Galicia  .  188 

The  Eastern  Frontier .  195 

Bibliographical  Note .  199 


VI 

Austria . 201-229 

The  Collapse .  201 

Czecho-Slovakia .  213 

The  Germans  in  Bohemia .  216 

The  Austrian  Republic  .  222 

Klagenfurt .  223 

The  Italian  Frontier .  224 

Bibliographical  Note .  228 

VII 

Hungary  and  the  Adriatic . 231-262 

The  End  of  the  Old  Hungarian  State  .  231 


CONTENTS  xi 

Hungary’s  Losses .  237 

The  Slovaks .  2.37 

The  Ruthenians  .  238 

The  Roumanians .  239 

The  Yugo-Slavs  .  241 

The  Adriatic  Question .  244 

Gorizia,  Trieste,  and  Istria .  249 

Dalmatia .  251 

Fiume .  256 

Bibliographical  Note .  261 

VIII 

The  Balkans . 263-290 

Bulgaria  and  her  Neighbors .  263 

The  Macedonian  Question .  267 

The  Dobrudja .  275 

Bulgaria’s  New  Losses .  276 

The  Aspirations  of  Greece .  277 

Epirus  and  Albania .  278 

Thrace  .  281 

Constantinople .  285 

Bibliographical  Note .  288 

INDEX . 291-307 


xii  CONTENTS 

MAPS 

I.  Belgium  and  her  Neighbors  ...  74 

II.  Alsace-Lorraine  and  the  Saar 

Valley  .  152 

III.  Poland  .  200 

IV.  Territories  of  the  Former  Austro- 

Hungarian  Monarchy  ....  242 

V.  The  Adriatic .  262 

VI.  The  Balkans .  290 


SOME  PROBLEMS 
OF  THE 

PEACE  CONFERENCE 


I 

TASKS  AND  METHODS  OF  THE 
CONFERENCE 


Great  peace  conferences  are  proverbially  slow 
bodies.  The  negotiators  of  Munster  and  Osna- 
briick  spent  five  years  in  elaborating  the  treaty 
of  Westphalia;  the  conferences  of  Paris  and 
Vienna  labored  a  year  and  a  half  at  undoing  the 
work  of  Napoleon.  Judged  by  these  standards, 
the  Peace  Conference  of  1919  was  an  expeditious 
body.  It  began  its  sessions  January  18  and 
adjourned  December  9.  It  submitted  the  treaty 
with  Germany,  including  the  covenant  of  the 
League  of  Nations,  May  7;  the  treaty  with 
Austria  June  2  and  July  20;  the  treaty  with  Bul¬ 
garia  September  19;  the  treaty  with  Hungary 
in  November.  In  the  early  summer  it  prepared 
various  treaties  with  Roumania  and  the  new  states 
of  eastern  Europe.  The  heaviest  part  of  its  work 
was  done  in  less  than  six  months,  before  the  de¬ 
parture  of  President  Wilson  on  June  28. 

Judged  by  its  output  in  a  given  time,  the  Con¬ 
ference  must  also  be  pronounced  a  businesslike 
and  efficient  body.  Whereas  the  treaty  of  Vienna 
covers  some  seventy  pages  of  print,  and  the  related 
conventions  perhaps  a  hundred  and  fifty  pages 
more,  the  published  works  of  the  Paris  Conference 
fill  several  volumes.  The  treaties  which  it  drew  up 
were  long  and  detailed,  each  of  the  major  treaties 

3 


\/ 


4 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


running  to  a  couple  of  hundred  pages  and  com¬ 
prising  some  hundreds  of  articles  and  annexes  — 
territorial,  political,  financial,  economic,  naval, 
and  military  —  besides  the  provisions  respecting 
labor  and  the  League  of  Nations  which  are  common 
to  all. 

The  Conference  of  Paris  was  likewise  a  laborious 
body.  The  gaiety  of  the  Congress  of  Vienna  has  be¬ 
come  proverbial.  “The  Congress  does  not  march,’’ 
said  the  Prince  de Ligne, “  it  dances.’’  “Everybody 
dances  save  Talleyrand,  who  has  a  club  foot.  He 
plays  whist.”  It  is  probable,  as  recent  historians 
of  the  Vienna  assemblage  have  pointed  out,  that 
“the  unending  series  of  balls,  dinners,  reviews, 
and  fetes  did  not  greatly  hinder  the  work  of  those 
whose  industry  was  important.”  1  Nevertheless 
the  presence  of  a  crowd  of  kings  and  princes  and 
great  ladies  —  the  Prince  de  Ligne  wore  out  his  hat 
taking  it  off  at  every  turn  —  gave  the  Congress  of 
Vienna  an  air  of  splendor  and  gaiety  which  was 
conspicuously  lacking  at  Paris.  There  were  no 
kings  at  the  Paris  Conference,  indeed  there  were 
few  kings  left  anywhere  in  Europe  by  January  1919. 
There  were  no  balls,  no  great  festivities.  If  the 
Conference  did  not  always  advance,  at  least  it 
did  not  dance.  The  Marne  was  too  near  for  that, 
in  space  as  well  as  in  time.  Armageddon  was  just 
past.  The  Germans  had  barely  missed  marching 
up  the  Champs-Elysees  and  under  the  Arc  de 
Triomphe.  The  American  delegates  were  within 


1  Webster,  The  Congress  of  Vienna,  p.  93. 


TASKS  AND  METHODS 


5 


'W' 


an  hour’s  ride  of  Chateau-Thierry  and  Belleau 
Wood,  where  their  countrymen  had,  only  a  few 
months  before,  done  “the  things  that  can’t  be 
done.”  Two  hours  would  take  them  to  the  heart 
of  the  devastated  region,  refugees  from  which  still 
filled  Paris.  The  regiments  of  poilus  that  marched 
by  with  steady  stride  had  looked  into  the  mouth  of 
hell,  and  their  eyes  showed  it.  The  Paris  which 
Castlereagh  had  found  “a  bad  place  for  business” 
in  1814  was  a  better  place  for  business  in  1919. 
The  world  wanted  peace,  and  it  wanted  it  soon. 

It  was  also  a  hungry  world.  Pliny  tells  of  a 
fabled  people  of  the  East  so  narrow-mouthed  that 
they  lived  by  the  smell  of  roast  meat.  Even  that 
gladsome  and  satisfying  odor  had  long  since  dis¬ 
appeared  from  the  nostrils  of  a  great  part  of 
Europe,  and  the  mouths  had  not  shrunk.  “If 
they  have  no  bread,  let  them  eat  cake,”  a  great 
lady  had  said  at  the  time  of  the  French  Revolution. 
The  cake  had  gone  with  the  bread.  “The  wolf,” 
said  Mr.  Hoover,  “is  at  the  door  of  the  world.” 
More  than  once  the  Peace  Conference  had  to  turn 
from  other  matters  to  feed  the  peoples  whose 
frontiers  it  was  drawing,  to  deal  earnestly  and 
under  pressure  with  problems  of  blockade  and 
rationing,  of  transportation  by  land  and  sea. 

Back  of  hunger  lay  anarchy.  Great  states  were 
on  the  verge  of  dissolution,  and  it  was  doubtful 
who,  if  anyone,  could  sign  the  treaty  on  their  be¬ 
half.  There  were  times  when  the  Conference  had 
also  to  interrupt  its  labors  to  consider  the  chaos 


& 


6  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

into  which  the  world  seemed  to  be  drifting.  The 
day  after  the  Bolshevist  revolution  in  Hungary 
one  of  the  sanest  of  American  journalists  remarked, 
“In  the  race  between  peace  and  anarchy,  anarchy 
seems  today  to  be  ahead.” 

No  peace  congress  had  ever  confronted  so  colos¬ 
sal  a  task.  ,  The  assembly  at  Paris  met  to  end  a 
world  war,  then  in  its  fifth  year,  which  had  de¬ 
stroyed  9,000,000  lives  and  untold  billions  of 
property,  and  left  the  world  staggering  under  a 
crushing  burden  of  debt  and  destruction.  It  had 
in  the  first  instance  to  liquidate  the  affairs  of  three 
bankrupt  empires,  the  German,  the  Austro-Hun¬ 
garian,  and  the  Turkish.  The  peoples  which  they 
/  had  held  in  unwilling  subjection  were  to  be  set 
free,  and  either  attached  to  the  neighboring  peoples 
from  which  they  had  once  been  torn,  or  established 
firmly  as  independent  and  self-governing  states. 
“  As  Lord  Bryce  had  predicted,  the  most  knotty 
disputes  which  faced  the  Conference  were  ‘nearly 
all  problems  that  involve  the  claims  of  peoples  dis- 
satisfied  with  their  present  rulers  and  seeking  either 
independence  or  union  with  some  kindred  race. 
Several  thousand  miles  of  new  boundaries  had  to 
be  drawn,  marking  new  frontiers,  and  if  possible 
these  frontiers  must  be  just  and  lasting.  Provi- 
'  sion  must  be  made  for  restoring  the  lands  laid 
waste  by  war  and  reestablishing  the  normal 
commercial  and  industrial  life  of  the  warring  coun¬ 
tries.  Those  responsible  for  the  war  must  pay, 
and  they  must  be  punished.  Finally,  if  possible, 


TASKS  AND  METHODS 


7 


effective  measures  must  be  taken  to  prevent  the 
recurrence  of  a  similar  war,  whether  brought  about 
by  Germany’s  lust  of  conquest  or  by  any  other 
state.  If  war  could  not  be  prevented,  it  must  at 
least  be  rendered  more  difficult  and  more  abhor¬ 
rent  to  the  common  moral  sense  of  mankind. 

Far  beyond  the  more  immediate  and  necessary 
tasks  of  the  Conference  rose  the  dreams  of  those 
who  looked  for  the  dawning  of  a  new  age  of  peace 
and  justice,  a  new  social  and  economic  era.  The 
downtrodden  and  the  oppressed  looked  toward 
Paris.  Visions  of  peace  were  confused  with  visions 
of  the  millennium.  “We  were  told,”  said  a  Scotch 
mill-worker,  later  in  the  winter,  “  that  the  peace 
would  bring  in  the  New  Jerusalem.  We  want  some 
of  that  New  Jerusalem.”  The  day  President 
Wilson  sailed  for  Brest,  a  worker  at  the  Twenty- 
third  Street  Ferry,  speaking  for  the  early  crowd 
hurrying  to  their  long  hours  in  New  York  sweat¬ 
shops,  pointed  to  Hoboken  and  said,  “There  goes 
the  man  who  is  going  to  change  all  this  for  us.” 
Beautiful,  extravagant,  heart-breaking  hopes  were 
centred  on  the  Conference  at  Paris,  most  of  all  on 
the  leader  of  the  American  delegation  and  his  pro¬ 
gramme.  And  such  hopes  were  in  large  measure 
inevitably  doomed  to  disappointment.  The  con¬ 
gress  could  not  create  a  new  heaven  and  a  new 
earth;  it  could  at  best  only  make  some  short 
advance  on  the  road  thither  and  show  the  way 
along  which  further  advance  lay.  Renan  tells  of  a 
devout  soul,  who,  seeing  so  much  evil  about  him, 


8 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


was  periodically  afflicted  with  doubts  concerning 
the  goodness  of  an  all-powerful  God.  “Perhaps,” 
his  parish  priest  would  answer,  “you  have  too  high 
an  idea  of  God  and  what  he  can  do.”  “It  was  an 
old  world,”  writes  Mommsen  of  the  age  which  just 
preceded  the  Christian  era,  “and  even  Caesar 
could  not  make  it  young  again.” 

A  just  peace,  a  durable  peace,  if  possible  a  quick 
peace,  could  these  ends  be  secured?  The  task  was 
one  which  called  for  compromise  and  adjustment, 
it  called  also  for  organization.  There  is  said  to 
have  been  a  plan  for  quick  preliminaries  which 
should  end  the  state  of  war,  followed  by  the 
leisurely  and  expert  working  out  of  details.  If  such 
a  course  had  been  possible,  it  would  probably  have 
been  the  best.  Germany  would  have  accepted 
terms  in  January  at  which  she  howled  in  June, 
while  the  Allied  peoples  might  thus  have  avoided 
the  long  agony  of  doubt  and  postponement  which 
delayed  the  resumption  of  normal  activities  and  the 
rehabilitation  of  the  devastated  regions.  The 
world  that  was  malleable  after  the  armistice  soon 
grew  cold  and  hard.  It  is,  however,  a  matter  for 
serious  question  whether  an  agreement  upon  such 
preliminaries  was  possible.  The  problems  were  too 
varied  and  intricate,  the  conflict  of  interests  too 
acute,  the  new  ideas  too  new,  to  admit  of  even  pro¬ 
visional  adjustment  in  a  few  weeks.  The  Confer¬ 
ence  seemed  long,  too  long,  to  the  outside  world 
which  waited.  If  it  did  not  dance,  like  the  Con¬ 
gress  of  Vienna,  neither  did  it  always  seem  to 


TASKS  AND  METHODS 


9 


march,  like  the  Congress  of  Berlin,  which  had 
a  cut-and-dried  programme.  At  times  it  was 
undoubtedly  too  slow;  at  times  certain  special 
problems,  like  Fiume,  consumed  energy  altogether 
out  of  proportion  to  their  importance;  yet  the  Con¬ 
ference  made  steady  and  on  the  whole  rapid  prog¬ 
ress.  It  was  a  hard-working  body,  and  its  scanty 
time  was  well  spent. 

It  will  be  many  years  before  the  history  of  the 
Peace  Conference  can  be  written.  Its  work  was  too 
vast  and  too  varied;  its  records  are  too  scattered 
and  too  inaccessible,  many  of  them  still  unwritten. 
We  are  still  too  near  for  a  true  perspective.  For 
some  time  we  must  be  content  with  fragmentary, 
partial,  provisional,  journalistic  accounts,  and  we 
do  well  to  keep  to  the  main  lines  of  unmistakable 
fact.  The  most  obvious  results  of  the  work  of  the 
Conference,  though  not  necessarily  the  most  per¬ 
manent  results,  are  its  territorial  decisions,  the 
readjustment  ol  boundaries  and  sovereignties,  the 
callingof  new  states  into  being.  These,  so  far  as 
they  go,  are  clear  and  definite.  They  can  be 
expressed  on  a  map,  their  origin  and  occasion  can 
be  traced,  their  nature  explained.  It  is  these,  the 
territorial  results  of  the  Conference,  with  their 
consequences  and  implications,  which  form  the 
subject  of  this  volume.  The  treatment  is  further 
limited  to  Europe,  omitting  the  problems  of  Asia, 
Africa,  and  the  isles  of  the  Pacific. 

There  are  those  who  maintain  that  the  terri¬ 
torial  results  are  unstable  and  hence  relatively 


IO  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

unimportant,  liable  to  speedy  readjustment  in  a 
fluid  state  of  international  relations,  subordinated 
in  ever  increasing  degree  to  economic  and  social 
influences  which  transcend  national  boundaries. 
All  this  the  future  must  determine.  For  the 
present  the  decisive  fact  for  many  millions  of 
Europeans  is  that  they  are  on  one  side  or  another 
of  a  political  frontier,  members  or  not  of  the  state 
to  which  their  natural  allegiance  gravitates;  and 
this  is  a  matter  of  specific  boundary.  One  may 
deplore  the  rivalries  over  small  bits  of  territory, 
which  acquire  a  factitious  significance  in  the  course 
of  the  dispute,  but  they  cannot  be  ignored.  The 
possession  of  land  is  still  a  passion  of  peoples,  and 
even  of  what  our  census  calls  ‘minor  civil  divisions,’ 
and  the  history  of  individual  ownership  shows  that 
such  passions  do  not  grow  less  with  the  growth  of 
other  interests.  So  long  as  states  continue  to 
exercise  authority  within  definitely  recognized 
frontiers,  the  establishing  of  their  territorial  limits 
must  remain  a  fundamental  problem  of  interna¬ 
tional  relations.  If  an  illustration  of  the  meaning 
of  frontiers  is  desired  nearer  home,  one  has  only 
to  look  at  the  two  sides  of  the  Rio  Grande. 

Reduced  to  their  lowest  terms,  the  elements 
which  enter  into  a  national  boundary  are  two,  the 
land  and  the  people;  and  an  ideally  perfect  fron¬ 
tier  would  be  at  the  same  time  geographic  and 
ethnographic.  Such  coincidences  are,  however, 
relatively  rare,  and  the  problem  varies  from  age  to 


TASKS  AND  METHODS 


1 1 

age  as  different  geographical  considerations  change 
in  relative  importance  and  as  the  human  elements 
of  race,  language,  and  nationality  develop,  shift, 
and  grow  more  complex. 

Thus  a  glance  at  the  map  of  Europe  shows  that 
certain  frontiers  apparently  have  been  drawn  by 
nature,  while  others  are  clearly  the  work  of  man. 
The  Spanish  peninsula,  Italy,  the  British  Isles, 
and  the  Scandinavian  lands  are  set  apart  from  the 
mass  of  the  Continent  by  broad  boundaries  of  sea 
or  mountain  which  have  come  to  form  permanent 
political  frontiers.  On  the  other  hand  no  such 
obvious  natural  obstacles  separate  France  from 
Germany,  Germany  from  Russia,  Belgium  from 
Holland,  Austria  from  its  neighbors,  Serbia  from 
Bulgaria.  So  far  as  the  boundaries  have  been 
drawn  by  geographic  forces,  the  forces  are  less 
obvious;  if  they  have  been  drawn  by  the  course  of 
history,  this  requires  explanation  and  elucidation. 
It  so  happened  that  the  Paris  congress  had  to  do, 
not  with  the  outlying  regions  where  the  physical 
and  the  political  maps  generally  coincide,  but  with 
those  lands  of  central  and  eastern  Europe  where  the 
adjustment  is  most  complicated.  We  shall  under¬ 
stand  its  work  more  clearly  if  we  pause  to  analyze 
briefly  this  problem  of  frontiers. 

Of  the  geographical  elements  which  go  to  form 
frontiers,  the  most  obvious,  after  the  sea,  is  con¬ 
stituted  by  mountains.  The  Pyrenees  are  a  perfect 
example  of  a  natural  frontier  which  is  also  an  actual 
frontier,  and  so  in  a  lesser  degree  are  the  Alps  and 


12 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


the  Carpathians.  Mountains  inevitably  divide, 
turning  peoples  different  ways,  in  spite  of  modern 
means  of  communication,  and  they  have  always 
been  valued  as  military  barriers.  Rivers,  on  the 
contrary,  although  they  have  military  value,  unite 
rather  than  divide,  so  that  we  need  not  be  sur¬ 
prised  if  we  find  no  important  instances  of  a  river 
frontier  in  present-day  Europe,  save  along  the 
Danube  and  where  the  Rhine  separates  Alsace  and 
Baden.  Most  frontiers  are  neither  mountain 
ranges  nor  rivers,  yet  they  are  often  adjusted  to 
lesser  features  of  topography,  with  reference  either 
to  defence  or  to  means  of  communication.  Com¬ 
munication  notably,  with  the  growth  of  modern 
systems  of  transportation,  bears  an  intimate  rela¬ 
tion  to  boundary  problems.  Access  to  the  sea, 
either  directly  or  by  neutralized  or  international¬ 
ized  rivers,  has  become  a  prime  necessity  for  most 
states,  and  occupied  the  Conference  especially  in 
the  cases  of  Poland  and  Czecho-Slovakia.  Even 
railroad  lines,  especially  where  they  monopolize 
natural  routes,  have  their  place  in  frontier  adjust¬ 
ments,  as  in  Carinthia  or  between  East  and  West 
Prussia. 

Another  geographical  element,  essentially  mod¬ 
ern  in  its  significance,  is  found  in  natural  resources. 
This  has  never  been  wholly  absent  from  boundary 
problems,  at  least  in  its  early  form  of  fertile  or  less 
fertile  land,  but  it  has  taken  on  a  preponderant 
importance  with  the  growth  of  modern  industrial¬ 
ism.  Each  state  has  been  anxious  to  bring  within 


TASKS  AND  METHODS 


13 


its  limits  supplies  of  mineral  resources,  and  espe¬ 
cially  of  that  foundation  of  modern  industry,  coal. 
Now  it  so  happens  that  some  of  the  most  important 
deposits  of  coal  and  mineral  wealth  lie  on  or  near 
disputed  frontiers.  The  coal  of  Upper  Silesia, 
Teschen,  Limburg,  and  the  Saar,  the  iron  of  Briey 
and  annexed  Lorraine,  the  potash  of  Upper  Alsace, 
the  mercury  mines  of  Carniola,  are  all  cases  in 
point.  Prussia  was  affected  by  such  considerations 
in  drawing  the  frontiers  of  1815  and  1871;  other 
countries  had  learned  the  lesson  by  1919. 

The  human  elements  in  frontier-making  are  still 
more  complex  than  the  geographical.  Obviously 
we  have  to  do  not  with  individuals  but  with  groups, 
and  with  those  larger  groups  which  have  acquired 
a  full  measure  of  what  the  sociologists  call  ‘con¬ 
sciousness  of  kind,’  to  the  point  of  constituting 
some  kind  of  national  unity  or  national  organiza¬ 
tion.  We  speak  of  the  self-determination  of 
peoples,  but  what  is  a  people?  Is  it  created  by 
race  or  language  or  political  allegiance,  or  only  by 
that  more  subtle  compound  which  we  call  national¬ 
ity?  How  large  must  a  people  be  to  have  a  right 
to  stand  alone?  Can  it  stand  alone  without  cer¬ 
tain  economic  and  even  military  prerequisites? 
How  far  can  we  go  in  breaking  up  states  in  order 
to  give  effect  to  self-determination? 

Such  general  principles  might  have  a  very 
wide  application.  Formulated  with  special  refer¬ 
ence  to  the  Central  Powers,  self-determination 
was  seized  upon  by  men  who  had  a  case  to  urge  in 


14 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


any  part  of  the  world  —  in  Ireland,  in  Egypt,  in 
the  Philippines.  A  German  map  of  last  spring 
even  represented  Hawaii,  St.  Thomas,  Florida,  and 
Texas  as  trying  to  escape  from  their  unwilling  sub¬ 
jection  to  the  United  States1  —  a  curious  evidence 
that  German  mentality  had  not  changed  since  the 
notorious  Zimmermann  note  of  1917.  More  than 
once  it  was  necessary  to  point  out  that  the  function 
,of  the  Paris  Conference  was  not  to  do  abstract  jus¬ 
tice  in  every  corner  of  the  earth,  but  to  make  peace 
Nwith  Germany,  Austria-Hungary,  Bulgaria,  and 
Turkey.  Many  causes  perhaps  excellent  in  them¬ 
selves  were  not  the  business  of  the  Conference. 

Even  within  the  self-imposed  limits  of  the  Con¬ 
ference,  there  were  difficulties.  ‘  ‘  SpI  f-H  etermi  n  a  - 
tion,”  President  Wilson  had  said,  “is  not  a  mere 
phrase,  it  is  an  imperative  principle  of  action.” 
But  President  Wilson  had  also  said  that  self- 
government  cannot  be  given  but  must  be  earned; 
that  “liberty  is  the  privilege  of  maturity,  of  self- 
control,”  that  “some  peoples  may  have  it,  there¬ 
fore,  and  others  may  not.”2  However  just  and 
admirable  self-determination  might  be,  it  could  be 
fully  applied  only  to  peoples  who  had  some  experi¬ 
ence  in  self-government  and  thus  some  means  of 
political  self-expression.  For  this  reason  it  was 
not  applicable  to  the  downtrodden  natives  of  the 
German  colonies.  And  even  among  self-govern¬ 
ing  peoples  there  are  practical  limitations.  Self- 

1  Was  von  der  Entente  ubrigbliebe  wenn  sie  Ernst  machte  mit  dem  “ Selbst - 
bestimmungsrecht ”  (Berlin,  D.  Reimer). 

2  Atlantic  Monthly ,  xc,  pp.  728,  731  (1902). 


TASKS  AND  METHODS 


i5 


determination  may  be  only  another  name  for 
secession,  and  we  fought  the  Civil  War  to  prevent 
that;  we  have  been  none  too  successful  in  securing 
the  subsequent  self-determination  of  the  negroes 
in  the  southern  states.  Sometimes  a  people  may 
be  too  small  to  stand  alone,  and  sometimes,  as  in 
parts  of  the  Balkans  and  Asia  Minor,  the  mixture 
of  peoples  may  defy  separation.  In  western  Asia, 
notably,  national  aspirations  have  outrun  the  social 
organization. 

Wherever  you  apply  it,  self-determination  runs 
against  minorities.  Ireland  has  its  Ulster,  Bo¬ 
hemia  its  Germans,  Poland  its  Germans  and  Lithua¬ 
nians.  There  are  minorities  along  every  frontier. 
Some  one  remarked  that  there  was  need  of  a  fif¬ 
teenth  point,  the  rights  of  minorities.  The  Con¬ 
ference  found  this  out,  and  upon  the  newly  estab¬ 
lished  states  of  eastern  Europe  were  imposed 
special  treaties  safeguarding  the  rights  of  minority 
peoples  —  Jews,  Germans,  Russians,  etc. —  whom 
past  experience  had  shown  to  need  such  guarantees. 

Of  these  human  elements  in  frontier-making  we 
may  begin  by  eliminating  race,  for  in  Europe 
race  is  a  matter  of  no  importance  in  drawing 
national  lines.  This  point  is  emphasized,  here  and 
later,  because  there  has  been  a  great  deal  of  loose 
talk  about  race,  notably  on  the  part  of  German 
writers.  So  far  as  it  is  an  exact  term  at  all,  race 
is  a  physical  fact,  dependent  upon  certain  elements 
of  stature,  color,  and  shape  of  the  skull  which 
occur  and  are  transmitted  in  certain  fixed  combi- 


i6 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


nations  or  racial  types.  There  are  three  such 
types  in  Europe,  the  Teutonic,  the  Alpine,  and  the 
Mediterranean,  most  prevalent  respectively  in 
northern,  central,  and  southern  Europe.  But  in 
no  country  do  they  appear  in  pure  or  unmixed 
form.  Migration  and  conquest  have  intermingled 
them  to  such  an  extent  as  to  leave  no  sharp  racial 
V  frontiers  and  to  make  the  people  of  every  country 
a  mixture  of  two  or  three  races.  Thus  the  central 
or  Alpine  type  is  widely  prevalent  in  the  south  and 
west  of  Germany,  and  the  Teutonic  type  in  the 
north  and  east  of  France.  Furthermore  these 
physical  types  are  quite  without  political  signifi¬ 
cance  —  no  one  cares  whether  his  neighbors  are 
tall  or  short,  blonde  or  brunette,  round-headed  or 
long-headed.  So  far  as  Europe  is  concerned,  all 
talk  of  race  has  to  be  eliminated  from  serious 
international  discussion. 

/  Language,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  matter  of 
'  prime  importance.  Speech  is  a  fundamental  ele¬ 
ment  in  creating  consciousness  of  kind:  the  man 
in  the  street  knows  whether  he  can  understand 
the  speech  of  his  neighbor,  and  has  always  had 
opprobrious  epithets  for  those  who  speak  an  alien 
tongue,  from  the  ‘barbarians’  of  the  Greeks  and 
the  ‘Welsh’  of  the  Teutonic  Middle  Ages  to  the 
‘dagoes’  and  ‘gringoes’  and  ‘wops’  of  current 
parlance.  Even  differences  of  dialect  engender 
similar  terms,  as  when  the  people  of  the  Right  Bank 
are  called  Schwob  in  Alsace  and  the  Alsatians  are 
stigmatized  as  Wacke  by  those  beyond  the  Rhine. 


TASKS  AND  METHODS 


i7 


Still,  language  has  its  pitfalls  as  a  guide  to  na¬ 
tional  lines  of  cleavage.  To  begin  with,  while  in 
the  country  districts  it  is  singularly  persistent,  it 
can  also  be  learned  and  unlearned  by  a  new  genera- 
tion,  especially  when  the  resources  of  universal 
education  are  wielded  by  the  compulsive  power 
of  the  modern  state.  The  German  schoolmaster  has 
labored  to  reduce  the  area  ol  Danish  in  Schleswig 
and  of  French  in  Alsace-Lorraine.  The  Russians 
have  checked  German  in  the  Baltic  provinces. 

In  the  British  Isles  Celtic  speech  is  far  less  wide¬ 
spread  than  Celtic  blood.  Moreover,  if  the  gov¬ 
ernment  cannot  always  drive  out  minority  lan¬ 
guages,  it  can  at  least  make  its  own  language 
statistics.  It  is  easy  for  the  census-taker  to  impose 
on  the  weak  or  ignorant,  to  interpret  all  doubtful 
cases  in  one  direction,  to  adopt  definitions  which 
fall  on  one  side.  The  statistics  of  Polish-speaking 
districts  in  Prussia  and  of  Italian-speaking  ele¬ 
ments  in  Austria-Hungary  are  well  known  exam¬ 
ples. 

Again,  language  statistics,  even  when  trust¬ 
worthy,  do  not  necessarily  yield  a  sharp  dividing 
line.  There  may  be  more  than  two  significant  V 
elements  in  the  population,  or,  as  in  parts  of  the 
Balkans  and  Asia  Minor,  villages  of  different 
speech  may  be  interspersed  in  a  checkerboard 
fashion. 

Finally,  language,  even  when  accurately  ascer-  \f 
tained,  is  not  a  certain  test  of  political  affiliation. 
There  has  been  a  strong  pro-French  tradition 


i8 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


among  the  German-speaking  Alsatians.  The  small 
German-speaking  districts  of  Belgium  are  not 
pro-German. 

>  After  all,  it  is  the  opinion  of  the  people  con- 
'  cerned  which  we  wish  to  ascertain  with  respect  to 
a  given  frontier,  and  language  is  important  chiefly 
as  a  guide  to  that.  Unequivocal  expressions  of 
popular  opinion  are,  however,  hard  to  reach, 
especially  in  times  of  stress  and  in  regions  that  are 
under  dispute.  At  best  a  plebiscite  may  be  but 
a  poor  indication  of  real  opinion,  and  the  opinion 
it  registers  well  may  be  only  transitory.  More¬ 
over,  caution  may  be  required  in  giving  effect  to  a 
vote  or  an  otherwise  well  ascertained  expression 
of  opinion.  Thus  it  is  open  to  debate  whether  the 
vote  of  a  small  district  should  necessarily  carry 
with  it  the  disposal  of  a  great  key  deposit  of  mineral 
wealth  which  concerns  a  much  wider  constituency. 
It  is  also  possible  that  in  the  long  run  commercial 
intercourse  and  economic  interest  may  create  ties 
more  lasting  than  language  or  national  sentiment, 
and  that  a  given  boundary  may  do  more  ultimate 
harm  by  violating  the  fundamental  economic 
interests  of  a  region  than  by  violating  its  momen¬ 
tary  political  sentiments. 

Again,  the  political  sentiment  of  the  moment 
'/  may  run  counter  to  strong  historic  forces,  as  in 
Bohemia,  where  the  considerable  German  element 
has  been  settled  for  centuries,  so  that  its  incorpo¬ 
ration  with  adjacent  German-speaking  countries 
would  tear  apart  the  historic  unity  of  the  Czech 


TASKS  AND  METHODS 


l9 


state.  Indeed,  it  is  a  nice  question  how  far  it  was 
the  task  of  the  Peace  Conference  to  right  ancient 
territorial  wrongs.  “The  wrong  done  to  France 
by  Prussia  in  1871  in  the  matter  of  Alsace-Lor¬ 
raine”  was  a  clear  case  for  rectification,  if  only 
because,  in  President  Wilson’s  phrase,  it  had  “un¬ 
settled  the  peace  of  the  world  for  nearly  fifty  years.” 
Much  the  same  could  be  said  for  the  restoration  of 
North  Schleswig,  seized  by  Prussia  in  1864,  and 
even  for  Poland,  though  its  destruction  dates  back 
to  the  eighteenth  century.  On  the  other  hand, 
more  recent  acts  of  injustice,  such  as  the  Prussian 
annexations  of  1814,  the  Conference  left  untouched, 
except  on  the  Belgian  frontier,  evidently  consider¬ 
ing  them  as  internal  German  questions  which  time 
had  adjusted.  Some  notion  of  prescription  had 
evidently  to  be  admitted,  else  in  seeking  to  right 
ancient  wrongs  the  Conference  would  have  done  a 
greater  wrong  by  introducing  confusion  into  every 
part  of  the  world.  The  only  noteworthy  attempt 
to  reach  far  back  into  history  would  be  the  restora¬ 
tion  of  the  Jews  to  Palestine,  now  inhabited  by  a 
preponderantly  Mohammedan  and  Christian  popu¬ 
lation.  Here,  as  in  many  parts  of  eastern  Europe, 
religion  becomes  an  important  element  in  national 
cleavage. 

In  general,  the  Paris  Conference  was  disposed  to 
give  more  weight  to  the  principle  of  nationality, 
ifrits  broader  historic  sense,  than  to  economic  or 
strategic  considerations.  This  idea  of  nationality 
runs  through  the  programme  of  President  Wilson, 


20 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

which  the  members  of  the  Conference  had  accepted 
^  in  advance.  It  is,  of  course,  easier  to  set  peoples 
free  from  their  rulers  than  from  economic  necessity, 
and  the  creation  of  new  political  frontiers  undoubt¬ 
edly  complicates  questions  of  trade  and  commercial 
^policy.  Nevertheless,  it  is  a  curious  inconsistency 
that  some  who  are  most  eager  to  find  discrepancies 
between  the  programme  of  the  Conference  and  its 
achievements  should  at  the  same  time  propose  to 
destroy  the  economic  and  political  independence  of 
the  newly  liberated  peoples  of  central  Europe  and 
the  Balkans  by  imposing  on  them  a  compulsory 
customs  union  after  the  manner  of  Germany  s 
Mitteleuropa.1 

Finally,  the  nature  of  the  frontiers  to  be  drawn 
at  Paris  depended  on  the  kind  of  world  for  which 
they  were  to  be  made.  If  Europe  was  to  continue 
to  be  an  armed  camp,  divided  between  two  com¬ 
peting  systems  of  alliances,  then  the  strongest 
possible  military  frontiers  would  be  required 
along  the  Rhine  and  the  Danube,  in  the  Alps  and 
in  the  Balkans  — ,  and  the  strategic  element  must 
preponderate  in  every  boundary.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  some  better  form  of  international 
organization  could  be  found  through  a  League  of 
Nations,  however  rudimentary,  strategic  considera¬ 
tions  could  drop  into  the  background  in  favor  of 
‘  the  economic  convenience  and  the  political  desires 
of  the  people  concerned.  If  colonial  rivalries  were 
to  be  reduced  in  the  interest  of  world  peace,  the 

1  Keynes,  Economic  Consequences  of  the  Peace,  p.  265. 


TASKS  AND  METHODS 


11 


German  colonies  ought  to  be  subjected  to  some 
international  control,  and  they  could  not  be  inter¬ 
nationalized  without  creating  some  international 
authority.  An  international  control  of  ports  and 
rivers  might  affect  the  whole  problem  of  access  to 
the  sea,  while  areas  of  special  tension  or  perplexity, 
like  Danzig  or  the  Saar  valley,  might  be  placed 
under  some  form  of  international  administration 
such  as  commissions  of  the  League  of  Nations. 
This  explains  why  the  problem  of  the  League 
could  not  be  postponed  until  after  the  conclusion 
of  peace,  but  formed  an  integral  part  of  the  nego¬ 
tiations  and  of  the  treaty  itself.  At  every  turn  the 
problem  of  the  League  of  Nations  obtruded  itself, 
and  the  elaboration  of  the  plan  for  a  League  facili¬ 
tated,  instead  of  hindering,  the  work  oPthe  Con¬ 
ference. 

In  addition  to  the  fundamental  principle  of  self- 
determination  expressed  in  President  Wilson’s 
speeches,  Germany  and  the  Allies  had  accepted  his 
specific  Fourteen  Points  as  the  basis  of  the  negotia- 
tions.  This  immensely  simplified  the  task  of  the 
Conference  in  certain  directions,  and  gave  a  firm 
ground  for  discussion  wherever  these  applied; 
but  much  was  required  in  the  way  of  interpretation, 
extension,  supplementing,  and  application  before 
the  two  pages  of  the  Fourteen  Points  could  grow 
into  the  two  hundred  pages  of  the  treaty  with 
Germany  and  the  correspondingly  long  texts  of 
the  other  treaties.  The  Fourteen  Points  did  not 


22 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


cover  the  whole  field,  and  even  where  they  were 
clearly  and  directly  applicable,  much  knowledge 
and  much  negotiation  were  required  to  put  them 
into  effect. 

The  Congress  of  Vienna  had  its  Statistical 
Commission,  one  of  the  most  successful  parts  of 
the  Congress,  which  collected  the  statistical  data 
for  parcelling  out  peoples  among  the  various 
princes.  It  was  limited,  however,  to  statistics  of 
population,  the  counting  of  heads  being  the  only 
basis  there  admitted  in  the  balancing  of  territorial 
adjustments.  The  Paris  Conference  needed  a  far 
larger  and  more  varied  body  of  knowledge,  not 
only  because  it  covered  every  part  of  the  world, 
but  because  its  declared  principles  necessitated 
information  of  every  sort  respecting  the  history, 
traditions,  aspirations,  ethnology,  government, 
resources,  and  economic  conditions  of  the  peoples 
with  which  it  was  to  deal. 

Information  the  Conference  had  in  huge  quanti¬ 
ties,  literally  by  the  ton.  It  came  in  every  day 
in  scores  of  foreign  newspapers,  in  masses  of 
pamphlets,  in  piles  of  diplomatic  reports  and 
despatches.  Every  special  interest  was  on  hand, 
eager  to  present  its  case  orally  to  the  Conference 
or  its  commissions,  to  enlighten  personally  the 
commissioners  or  their  subordinates,  to  hand  in 
endless  volumes  of  more  or  less  trustworthy 
ethnographical  maps  and  statistics,  of  pictures 
and  description,  of  propagandist  matter  of  every 
conceivable  sort.  A  steady  head,  a  critical  judg- 


TASKS  AND  METHODS 


23 


ment,  and  a  considerable  background  of  fact  were 
required  to  keep  one’s  vision  clear  amidst  this 
mass  of  confusing  and  conflicting  material. 

The  collecting  and  sifting  of  such  information 
for  the  Conference  had  begun  years  before.  The 
French,  systematic  as  always,  had  appointed 
governmental  commissions,  economic,  military, 
geographic,  and  had  also  a  special  university 
committee  with  Professor  Lavisse  as  chairman, 
the  Comite  d’Etudes,  which  prepared  two  admir¬ 
able  volumes,  with  detailed  maps,  on  the  European 
problems  of  the  conference.  The  British  had 
printed  two  considerable  series  of  Handbooks, 
one  got  out  by  the  Naval  Intelligence  Division 
under  the  guidance  of  Professor  W.  McNeil  Dixon 
of  Glasgow,  the  other  prepared  in  the  Historical 
Section  of  the  Foreign  Office  under  the  editorship 
of  Sir  George  Prothero.  The  United  States  had 
put  little  into  print,  but  more  than  a  year  before 
the  armistice,  by  direction  of  the  President, 
Colonel  Edward  M.  House  had  organized  a  com¬ 
prehensive  investigation,  known  as  the  1  Inquiry,’ 
with  its  headquarters  at  the  building  of  the  Ameri¬ 
can  Geographical  Society  in  New  York  City, 
whose  secretary,  Dr.  Isaiah  Bowman,  served 
as  executive  officer.  It  enlisted  throughout 
the  country  the  services  of  a  large  number  of 
geographers,  historians,  economists,  statisticians, 
ethnologists,  and  students  of  government  and 
international  law;  and  carloads  of  maps,  statistics, 
manuscript  reports,  and  fundamental  books  of 


24  the  peace  conference 

reference  accompanied  the  American  Commission 
to  Paris.  The  specialists  who  went  along  or  were 
later  brought  together  were  organized  into  a 
group  of  economic  advisers  Messrs.  Baruch, 
Davis,  Lamont,  McCormick,  Taussig,  "ioung,  and 
their  staffs  — 5  two  technical  advisers  in  inter¬ 
national  law  —  Messrs.  David  Hunter  Miller  and 
James  Brown  Scott  —  with  their  assistants;  and  a 
section  of  territorial  and  political  intelligence. 

Peace  conferences  are  always  represented  as 
sitting  around  green  tables,  and  this  pleasant 
fiction  is  perpetuated  with  reference  to  Paris  in 
the  widely  circulated  advertisement  of  a  well 
known  fountain  pen.  Now  the  Paris  Conference 
never  sat  around  a  table.  It  is  true  that  for  cer¬ 
tain  formal  sessions  of  the  whole  Conference  there 
was  arranged  a  long  table  lining  three  sides  of  the 
principal  room  in  the  French  Foreign  Office  on  the 
Quai  d’Orsay,  and  that  the  delegates  could  be 
packed  in  here  twice  as  close  as  nature  meant 
them  to  sit.  But  there  were  very  few  formal 
meetings  of  this  sort,  and  they  could  not  by  an) 
'd  stretch  of  the  imagination  be  thought  of  as  round¬ 
table  conferences,  if  indeed  as  conferences  at  all. 
Certain  leaders  delivered  prepared  speeches,  and 
rarely  did  lesser  lights  venture  to  break  the  pre¬ 
arranged  course  of  the  proceedings. 

It  was  early  apparent  that  the  Conference  could 
not  profitably  meet  and  do  business  as  a  whole. 
Twenty-seven  different  states  were  represented, 


TASKS  AND  METHODS 


25 


besides  the  five  British  dominions.  There  were 
seventy  authorized  delegates.  Such  a  body  would 
have  become  a  debating  society;  it  would  still  be 
in  session,  its  labors  scarcely  begun.  Some  guiding 
or  steering  executive  committee  was  obviously 
;  required,  and  it  was  early  found  in  the  delegates 
of  the  five  chief  Powers:  America,  England, 
\France,  Italy,  and  Japan. 

The  five  Great  Powers  themselves  had  thirty- 
four  delegates,  and  it  was  plain  that  this  also  was 
too  large  a  body  for  doing  ordinary  business.  So 
there  was  early  organized  a  Committee  or  Council 
of  Ten,  each  state  hawing  two  memhery  ordinarily 
thechief  delegate  and  the  foreignsecretary.;  and  this 
became  the  active  agency  ot  the  Conference.  It 
had  a  secretariat;  and  expert  advisers,  civil  or 
military,  attended  as  they  were  needed.  If  a 
military  matter  came  up,  Marshal  Foch  would  be 
on  hand,  member  of  the  Conference  in  his  capacity 
of  Commander-in-Chief,  with  his  curving  shoul¬ 
ders,  fine  face,  and  clear  eye.  A  naval  question 
brought  in  the  British  sea  lords,  Admiral  Benson, 
and  a  keen-looking  lot  of  Japanese.  When  eco¬ 
nomic  questions  were  to  the  fore,  the  American 
delegation  bulked  large,  with  the  square  jaw  of  Mr. 
Herbert  Hoover  well  in  evidence. 

Even  the  Council  of  Ten  was  not  seated  about 
a  table,  although  it  is  so  imagined  in  an  ‘inside 
history’  of  the  Conference  by  one  who  was  never 
inside.1  Nor  did  the  American  delegation  meet 


|x 


1  Dillon,  The  Inside  History  of  the  Peace  Conference,  p.  1 5 1. 


26 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


around  a  table,  notwithstanding  the  preparation 
of  an  official  picture  which  represents  the  members 
in  a  room  where  they  never  met,  seated  at  one  end 
of  a  table  and  backed  by  an  imposing  array  of 
secretaries  and  assistants.  The  Council  of  Ten 
sat  along  three  sides  of  the  pleasant  office  of  M. 
Pichon,  the  French  Foreign  Secretary,  its  walls 
covered  with  bright  tapestries  after  the  style  of 
Rubens,  its  windows  looking  out  over  a  beautiful 
French  garden  which  tempted  the  roving  eye  while 
a  long  speech  was  being  translated.  M.  Clemen- 
ceau  presided,  a  tiger  at  rest,  his  eyes  mostly  on  the 
ceiling,  sometimes  bored  but  always  alert  and 

never  napping.  Others  sometimes  appeared  to 
sleep  or  to~distract  themselves  as  best  they  could; 
but  no  one  lost  touch  with  the  proceedings.  Cer¬ 
tainly  the  President  of  the  United  States,  long 
trained  by  golf,  kept  his  eye  steadily  on  the  ball, 
t/  The  Council  of  Ten  met  almost  daily  at  three.. 
Each  special  interest,  each  minor  nationality,  had 
a  chance  to  come  forward  and  state  its  case,  usu¬ 
ally  at  considerable  length.  Whatever  was  said  in 
French  was  translated  into  English,  and  vice  versa. 
The  sessions  grew  long  and  tiresome,  and  progress 
was  slow.  More  and  more  people  were  called  in. 
One  of  them  remarked  that  he  would  not  have 
missed  his  first  meeting  for  a  thousand  dollars,  but 
would  not  give  ten  cents  to  see  a  second!  For  its 
last  two  sessions  the  Council  moved  into  the  large 
room  reserved  for  the  plenary  sessions  of  the  Con¬ 
ference.  One  of  these  meetings  was  reported  at 


TASKS  AND  METHODS 


27 


length  in  the  Paris  papers,  and  it  was  alleged  that 
undue  publicity,  as  well  as  undue  prolixity,  was 
responsible  for  the  sudden  change  on  March  24. 
After  that  date  the  Council  of  Ten  ceased  to  meet. 
Cartoonists  represented  it  as  seeking  a  bomb-proof 
shelter.  At  times  thereafter  the  foreign  ministers 
met  as  a  Council  of  Five.  But  the  real  power 
rested  with  a  new  body,  the  Council  of  the  four 
principal  delegates  o f  England,  France,  Italy,  and 
the  United  States  —  Messrs.  Lloyd  George,  Cle- 
menceau,  Orlando,  and  Wilson. 

The  Council  of  Four  left  the  spacious  quarters 
of  the  Quai  d’Orsay.  Sometimes  it  met  in  M. 
Clemenceau’s  office  at  the  Ministry  of  War,  some¬ 
times  at  Mr.  Lloyd  George’s  apartment,  most 
frequently  at  President  Wilson’s  residence,  either 
in  his  study,  or,  when  several  outsiders  were  present, 
in  the  large  drawing-room.  The  meetings  in  the 
study  were  not  always  “private  and  unattended,” 
nor  were  the  occasional  conferences  upstairs  the 
confused  gatherings  which  an  infrequent  spectator 
has  pictured.  Outsiders  were  called  in  as  needed, 
but  ordinarily  the  Four  met  by  themselves,  with  a 
confidential  interpreter,  Captain  Mantoux,  very 
able  and  very  trustworthy.  There  was  no  stenog¬ 
rapher,  not  even  a  secretary,  though  secretaries 
were  usually  outside  the  door  to  execute  orders. 
The  meetings  were  quite  conversational,  and  the 

1  Keynes,  The  Economic  Consequences  oj the  Peace,  pp.  30-32.  M.  Man¬ 
toux  asserts  that  Mr.  Keynes  never  attended  a  regular  session  of  the  Coun¬ 
cil  of  Four.  London  Times,  February  14,  1920. 


28 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


records  necessarily  fragmentary.  But  the  Coun¬ 
ts  cil  at  least  worked  rapidly,  sometimes  perforce 
too  rapidly.  Steadily  the  main  lines  of  the 
treaty  emerged. 

By  March  the  expert  work  of  the  Conference  had 
been  largely  organized  into  commissions,  not 
systematically  and  at  the  outset,  as  the  French  had 
proposed  in  January,  but  haltingly  and  irregularly, 
as  necessity  compelled.  Foresight  and  organizing 
y  ability  were  not  the  strong  points  of  the  congress. 
One  by  one  there  were  created  commissions  on 
Poland,  on  Greece,  on  Morocco,  on  Roumania, 
etc.,  on  reparation,  finance,  waterways,  and  the 
principal  economic  problems  of  the  conference. 
Ordinarily  a  commission  consisted  of  two  members 
from  each  of  the  five  great  powers,  with  a  secre¬ 
tary  from  each  and  special  advisers  as  required. 
Their  proceedings  were  regularly  noted,  and  formal 
minutes  of  each  session  were  approved  in  print. 
Each  country  expressed  its  opinion,  but  efforts 
were  made  to  reach  and  report  a  unanimous  con¬ 
clusion.  On  one  occasion  a  Japanese  delegate,  per¬ 
plexed  by  a  detailed  problem  of  local  topography, 
gave  as  his  vote,  “I  agree  with  the  majority. 
As  the  commission  had  just  divided,  two  to  two, 
he  scarcely  clarified  the  situation. 

Some  of  the  best  work  of  the  Conference  was 
done  in  these  commissions,  and  it  is  to  be  regretted 
'  that  the  system  was  not  organized  earlier  and  used 
more  widely.  Some  matters  were  never  referred 
to  commissions,  delicate  questions  like  Fiume  and 


TASKS  AND  METHODS 


29 


Dalmatia  and  the  Rhine  frontier  being  reserved 
for  the  exclusive  consideration  of  the  Four.  Prqb- 
lems  of  an  intermediate  sort  were  sent  to  special 
committees,  extemporized  and  set  to  work  at 
double  speed.  Such  were  the  Saar  valley  and 
Alsace-Lorraine,  referred  to  a  committee  of  three, 
Messrs.  Tardieu,  Headlam-Morley,  and  Haskins. 
Not  being  an  organized  commission,  this  body 
had  no  secretariat.  Economic  and  legal  advisers 
might  be  present,  but  often  there  were  only  the 
three.  This  committee  met  for  a  certain  period 
very  steadily,  sometimes  twice  a  day.  It  reported 
unanimously  the  chapters  of  the  treaty  on  the 
Saar  and  Alsace-Lorraine,  and  was  present  at  the 
meetings  of  the  Council  of  Four  each  time  these 

K questions  came  up. 

One  naturally  asks  how  far  the  recommendations 
of  these  commissions  and  special  committees  were 
followed  in  framing  the  final  draft  of  the  treaty. 
To  this  it  is  hard  to  give  a  general  answer,  for  in  the 
nature  of  the  case  there  was  no  uniform  policy. 
The  printed  minutes  of  the  commissions  will  some 
day  be  public  and  can  then  be  compared  with  the 
£/ several  clauses  of  the  treaty.  In  general,  the 
territorial  commissions  were  thought  of  in  the  first 
instance  as  gatherers  and  sifters  of  evidence, 
rather  than  as  framers  of  treaty  articles,  questions 
of  policy  being  reserved  for  the  ultimate  considera¬ 
tion  of  the  Council  of  Ten.  As  time  went  on,  the 
commissions  tended  to  acquire  more  responsibility 
and  to  throw  their  reports  into  the  form  of  specific 


3o  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

articles  or  sections  of  a  treaty.  These  naturally 
required  coordination  with  the  work  of  other 
bodies,  such  as  the  commissions  on  finance,  repara¬ 
tion,  or  waterways,  and  a  general  correlation  of  the 
territorial  reports  was  attempted  by  a  Central 
Territorial  Commission  of  five.  Some  final  sug¬ 
gestions  were  also  made  by  the  Drafting  Com¬ 
mission.  The  reports  of  the  commissions  were, 
however,  first  made  directly  to  the  Ten  or  the  Four 
or  the  Five,  as  the  case  might  be.  Each  report 
had  its  place  on  the  docket,  and  the  members  of 
the  commission  were  then  present,  each  at  the 
elbow  of  his  principal,  to  furnish  any  necessary 
explanations  in  his  ear,  but  not  to  speak  out. 
Later  in  the  summer  members  of  the  commissions 
were  allowed  to  take  part  in  the  discussions  of  the 
Council  of  Five. 

Sometimes  the  report,  presented  in  print,  would 
be  accepted  without  debate.  Sometimes  a  particu¬ 
lar  question  would  be  considered  at  length,  perhaps 
with  the  result  of  recommitting  the  report.  Unani¬ 
mous  reports  were  likely  to  go  through  rapidly. 
A  session  of  the  Council  of  Four  might  take  an 
important  report  clause  by  clause,  with  explana¬ 
tions  from  the  committee  and  suggestions  from 
members  of  the  Council,  but  without  fundamental 
modifications.  On  the  other  hand  important 
changes  in  one  chapter  of  the  treaty  were  made  at 
the  last  moment  by  the  Four  without  any  con¬ 
sultation  of  the  commission  concerned. 

In  general,  the  American  delegation  was  dis- 


TASKS  AND  METHODS 


3i 


posed  to  trust  its  experts,  both  on  matters  of  fact 
and  on  matters  of  judgment,  and  trusted  them  in 
greater  measure  as  the  Conference  wore  on.  It  did 
not  dictate  or  even  suggest  their  decisions,  but  left 
them  free  to  form  their  opinions  on  the  basis  of  the 
evidence.  They  could  have  been  used  to  better 
advantage  if  they  had  been  set  to  work  earlier,  and 
there  were  unfortunate  instances  where  they  were 
consulted  too  late;  but  in  general  this  is  to  be 
explained  by  the  haste  and  confusion  inevitable  in 
the  rapid  movement  of  events  rather  than  by  any 
desire  to  ignore  the  facts  or  the  judgment  based 
upon  them.  Certainly  none  of  the  chief  delegates 
was  more  eager  for  the  facts  of  the  case  than  was 
the  President  of  the  United  States,  and  none  was 
able  to  assimilate  them  more  quickly  or  use  them 
more  effectively  in  the  discussion  of  territorial 
problems. 

The  treaty  of  Versailles,  like  the  other  treaties 
drawn  up  at  Paris,  is  by  no  means  a  perfect  instru¬ 
ment.  Those  who  took  part  in  framing  it  would  be 
the  last  to  believe  it  verbally  inspired.  It  is  neces¬ 
sarily  a  peace  of  compromise  and  adjustment,  and  ' 
that  means  that  it  does  not  embody  completely  the 
desires  of  any  one  person  or  any  one  country.  It 
was  also  framed  rapidly,  not  always  with  sufficient 
preliminary  study,  and  in  some  places  it  bears  the 
marks  of  haste.  But  it  represents  an  honest  effort 
to  secure  a  just  and  durable  settlement,  and  neither 
the  Conference  in  general  nor  the  United  States  in 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


32 

v/  particular  need  be  ashamed  of  it.  It  is  easy  to 
criticise  in  detail,  easy  to  magnify  the  defects  and 
forget  the  substantial  results  achieved,  just  as  it 
was  easy  to  criticise  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States  when  it  issued  from  the  Convention  of  1787, 
and  to  discover  therein  dangers  which  history  has 
shown  to  be  imaginary.  For  one  result  of  the  Paris 
t/  treaties,  however,  their  framers  are  not  responsible, 
l /,  namely  the  delays  in  ratification  and  enforcement. 
The  treaties  were  drawn  for  the  world  of  1919  by 
men  of  1919,  on  the  assumption  that  what  was 
needed  was  an  early  peace  as  well  as  a  just  settle¬ 
ment.  The  governing  commissions  and  mandates 
were  to  begin  at  once,  the  plebiscites  were  to  be 
held  as  soon  as  possible,  the  disarmament  of  Ger¬ 
many  was  to  be  prompt  and  real,  the  difficult  work 
of  reparation  was  to  be  taken  up  immediately. 
None  of  these  expectations  has  been  realized,  and 
.the  responsibility  lies  less  with  the  Peace  Con¬ 
ference  than  with  the  failure  of  America  to  ratify 
the  treaties  and  to  take  part  in  carrying  out  their 
provisions.  - 

In  one  fundamental  respect  the  treaties  drawn  up 
at  Paris  differ  from  all  such  instruments  in  the  past: 
/  they  do  not  pretend  to  be  final.  The  treaty  of 
Vienna  lasted,  in  many  respects,  for  a  hundred 
years,  and  parts  of  it  are  still  in  force,  unchanged 
by  the  war  or  the  Conference.  For  all  this  the  Con¬ 
gress  of  Vienna  deserves  its  full  measure  of  credit, 
but  it  must  be  remembered  that  it  provided  no 
method  of  change  or  adjustment.  Only  a  new 


TASKS  AND  METHODS 


33 


war  could  undo  its  provisions,  and  more  than  one 
such  war  proved  necessary.  At  Paris  it  was  recog¬ 
nized  from  the  start  that  much  of  the  treaty  must 
be  temporary  and  provisional.  No  one  could 
determine  in  advance  how  peoples  would  vote,  or 
just  how  much  of  an  indemnity  Germany  could 
pay,  or  whether  she  would  endeavor  to  execute  or 
to  avoid  the  obligations  she  there  assumed,  or 
what  would  happen  in  Austria  or  in  Turkey. 
Some  means  of  amendment,  adjustment,  correction, 
and  supplementing  was  required,  and  this  was 
found  primarily  in  the  League  of  Nations.  In  the 
League  the  treaties  possess  the  possibility  of  their 
own  betterment,  the  starting-point  of  a  new  devel¬ 
opment.  Hence,  unlike  all  previous  treaties,  those 
of  1919  are  dynamic  and  not  static:  they  are  con¬ 
structive  and  not  merely  restorative;  they  look 
to  the  future  more  than  to  the  past. 


Bibliographical  Note 

The  published  records  of  the  Paris  Conference  are  limited  to  the 
official  reports  of  the  plenary  sessions  and  the  official  text  of  the 
treaties,  in  French  and  English,  with  authoritative  maps,  subject 
to  correction  after  the  frontiers  have  been  fixed  on  the  spot.  The 
proceedings  of  the  Council  of  Ten  and  the  Council  of  Five  were 
kept  by  a  regular  secretariat,  those  of  the  Council  of  Four  less 
officially  and  systematically;  these  minutes  were  manifolded  but 
not  printed.  The  minutes  of  the  various  commissions,  while 
printed,  have  not  been  made  public. 

The  German  and  Austrian  treaties  and  related  documents  are 
printed  as  supplements  to  the  American  Journal  oj  International 
Law  since  July  1919.  The  German  treaty  is  also  printed 
as  a  Senate  Document  and  as  a  publication  of  the  American 
Association  for  International  Conciliation.  The  entire  series  of 


34 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


treaties  is  best  available  in  the  British  Parliamentary  Papers, 
Treaty  Series,  1919  and  1920.  A  bibliographical  list  of  all  these 
treaties  by  Denys  P.  Myers  is  to  be  published  by  the  World  Peace 
Foundation,  League  of  Nations  Series,  iii,  no.  1.  Documents  and 
Statements  relating  to  Peace  Proposals  and  War  Aims ,  December 
1916  to  November  1918,  have  been  edited  by  G.  Lowes  Dickinson 
(London  and  New  York,  1919). 

There  is  as  yet  no  memoir  literature  by  members  of  the  Confer¬ 
ence.  Some  confidential  papers  are  printed  in  the  Hearings  before 
the  Committee  on  Foreign  Relations  of  the  United  States  Senate 
(Washington,  1919),  but  these  do  not  concern  territorial  problems. 
Some  things  touching  France  will  be  found  in  the  report  of  the 
Barthou  committee  to  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  supplemented  by 
the  articles  of  A.  Tardieu  in  L' Illustration  since  February  1920. 
The  official  German  criticisms  of  the  Treaty  of  Versailles  were 
published  in  various  languages  and  have  been  freely  reproduced  by 
pro-German  writers  in  other  countries.  A  Kommentar  in  six 
volumes  has  been  prepared  by  one  of  the  German  delegates,  Walter 
Schiicking. 

So  far  the  printed  accounts  of  the  Conference  are  the  work  of 
journalists,  who  from  the  nature  of  the  proceedings  cannot  be  fully 
informed.  The  most  direct  information  was  perhaps  possessed  by 
Ray  Stannard  Baker,  chief  of  the  American  service  of  publicity, 
but  his  volume,  What  Wilson  did  at  Paris  (New  York,  1919),  is 
ex  parte  and  very  brief.  E.  J.  Dillon,  The  Inside  History  of  the 
Peace  Conference  (New  York,  1920),  is  a  diffuse  composite  of  hear¬ 
say  and  newspaper  clippings;  it  is  anti-French  but  in  general 
friendly  to  small  nations.  H.  Wilson  Harris,  The  Peace  in  the 
Making  (New  York,  1920),  is  an  intelligent  account  by  a  fair- 
minded  British  Liberal.  Sisley  Huddleston,  Peace-Making  at 
Paris  (London,  1919),  is  more  impressionistic.  J.  M.  Keynes,  The 
Economic  Consequences  of  the  Peace  (London  and  New  liork,  1919), 
is  the  brilliant  but  untrustworthy  work  of  a  British  financial  expert 
who  finally  repented  of  the  treaty.  Influenced  by  German  propa¬ 
ganda,  it  is  in  general  anti-French,  anti-Belgian,  and  anti-Polish, 
and  disparages  political  self-determination  in  favor  of  economic 
frontiers.  Of  the  various  critiques  which  the  book  has  called  out, 
the  most  searching  is  that  of  David  Hunter  Miller,  in  the  New  York 
Evening  Post,  February  6  and  10,  1920,  and  in  separate  pamphlets. 

A  volume  on  the  Conference,  with  an  elaborate  atlas,  is  an¬ 
nounced  by  an  American  territorial  expert,  Isaiah  Bowman;  a  fuller 
work  is  in  preparation  by  British  and  American  experts  under  the 
editorship  of  Harold  W.  V.  Temperley,  of  Peterhouse,  Cambridge. 


TASKS  AND  METHODS 


35 


Of  the  material  collected  in  France  for  the  Conference,  the  only 
systematic  publication  is  the  Travaux  du  Comite  d' Etudes,  in  two 
volumes  with  an  atlas  (Paris,  1919).  Most  of  the  British  material 
was  printed  but  not  published,  a  useful  exception  being  C.  K. 
Webster,  The  Congress  of  Vienna  (Oxford,  1918).  The  Foreign 
Office  series  of  Handbooks  has  now  been  made  public  (London,  1920). 
The  most  important  American  publication  of  the  sort  is  the  Atlas 
of  Mineral  Resources  to  be  issued  by  the  United  States  Geological 
Survey  (Washington,  1920). 

There  is  no  entirely  satisfactory  discussion  of  the  general  problem 
of  frontiers.  T.  L.  Holdich,  Political  Frontiers  and  Boundary 
Making  (London,  1916),  is  concerned  chiefly  with  ‘natural’  frontiers 
outside  of  Europe.  For  the  facts  of  race,  see  W.  Z.  Ripley,  The 
Races  of  Europe  (New  York,  1899).  Leon  Dominian,  Frontiers  of 
Language  and  Nationality  in  Europe  (New  York,  1917),  is  convenient. 
A  more  authoritative  work  on  the  linguistic  side  is  A.  Meillet, 
Les  langues  dans  1' Europe  nouvelle  (Paris,  1918).  Experience  with 
plebiscites  is  brought  together  in  Miss  Sarah  Wambaugh’s  elaborate 
Monograph  on  Plebiscites  (New  York,  1920).  A.  Toynbee,  Nation¬ 
ality  and  the  War  (London,  1915),  is  an  attempt  to  state  the  terri¬ 
torial  problems  in  the  early  months  of  the  war;  L.  Stoddard  and 
G.  Frank,  Stakes  of  the  War  (New  York,  1918),  seeks  to  sum  them 
up  at  its  close.  The  relation  of  certain  of  these  problems  to  a 
league  of  nations  is  discussed  in  The  League  of  Nations,  edited  by 
Stephen  P.  Duggan,  with  references  (Boston,  1919);  and  by  Lord 
Eustace  Percy,  The  Responsibilities  of  Peace  (London  and  New 
York,  1920). 


II 

BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK 


Our  examination  of  the  specific  territorial  prob¬ 
lems  of  the  Conference  may  most  conveniently 
begin  with  the  simplest,  the  frontier  between 
Germany  and  Denmark.  This  had  been  estab¬ 
lished  by  force  of  arms  when  Schleswig  was  taken 
from  Denmark  in  1864,  while  a  promise  made  in 
1866  to  consult  the  population  had  never  been 
fulfilled.  Only  at  the  close  of  the  World  War  did 
an  opportunity  come  to  fix  the  boundary  in  accord¬ 
ance  with  the  will  of  the  inhabitants.  The  duty 
of  the  Conference  was  to  provide  the  means  of 
giving  effect  to  their  desires. 

The  territory  of  the  former  duchy  of  Schleswig 
comprises  the  portion  of  the  peninsula  of  Jutland 
lying  between  the  Danish  frontier  on  the  north 
and  the  River  Eider  and  the  Kiel  Canal  on  the 
south.  Called  by  the  Danes  South  Jutland 
(Sonderjylland),  it  is  similar  in  most  respects  to 
Denmark,  being  chiefly  agricultural,  with  a  fishing 
population  on  the  Frisian  islands  to  the  west  and 
a  considerable  shipping  industry  in  its  principal 
town,  Flensburg,  a  town  of  63,000  at  the  head  of 
the  Flensburg  fiord.  The  region  has  an  area  of 
3385  square  miles,  and  474,355  inhabitants,  not 
far  from  twice  the  extent  and  population  of  the 
state  of  Delaware.  About  one-third  of  the  people 
speak  Danish;  these  are  chiefly  in  the  northern 

37 


38  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

portion  of  the  province.  The  rest,  save  for  an 
isolated  group  of  Frisians  on  the  west  coast,  speak 
German. 

The  earlier  history  of  Schleswig  would  take  us 
into  the  tangled  history  of  the  Schleswig-Holstein 
question,  which  is  for  present  purposes  unnecessary. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that,  whatever  the  previous  rights 
of  the  king  of  Denmark  may  have  been,  the  at¬ 
tempt  to  unite  the  duchy  of  Schleswig  fully  to  the 
kingdom  of  Denmark  by  the  constitution  of  1863 
led  in  the  following  year  to  war  with  Austria  and 
Prussia  and  to  the  defeat  of  Denmark,  whose  king, 
by  the  treaty  of  Vienna,  renounced  all  rights  over 
Schleswig,  Holstein,  and  Lauenburg.  In  1866, 
at  the  conclusion  of  the  war  between  Austria  and 
Prussia,  the  treaty  of  Prague  transferred  the  rights 
of  Austria  to  the  king  of  Prussia,  with  the  reserva¬ 
tion  that  the  “inhabitants  of  North  Schleswig 
shall  be  again  reunited  with  Denmark  if  they 
should  express  such  a  desire  in  a  vote  freely  given. 
Nothing  could  be  clearer,  and  nothing  more  in¬ 
effective,  for  the  article  was  contained  in  a  treaty 
between  two  powers  neither  of  which  had  the 
slightest  interest  in  the  performance  of  the  obliga¬ 
tion.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  provision  had  been 
suggested  by  Napoleon  III,  but  the  interested 
parties,  Denmark  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  dis¬ 
trict,  were  not  put  in  a  position  to  secure  its 
execution.  Bismarck,  who  seems  at  first  to  have 
expected  a  referendum,  maintained  in  1867  that 
the  people  as  Prussian  subjects  had  no  right  to 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK 


39 


demand  it,  the  only  right  to  such  a  demand  resting 
with  the  emperor  of  Austria.  Prussia  made  no 
effort  to  put  the  article  into  effect,  and  in  1878  it 
was  abrogated  by  agreement  with  Austria. 

So,  since  1864,  Schleswig  has  been  under  Prus¬ 
sian  rule,  and  since  1867  an  integral  part  of  the 
kingdom  of  Prussia.  Once  probably  wholly  Dan¬ 
ish,  it  had  been  subject  for  centuries  to  penetra¬ 
tion  from  the  south,  and  by  this  time  possessed  a 
large  German  element  which  henceforth  had  the 
active  support  of  the  Prussian  government.  The 
history  of  the  attempt  to  Germanize  Schleswig  is, 
on  a  smaller  scale,  much  the  same  as  the  history 
of  the  Germanization  of  Prussian  Poland.  Efforts 
at  replacement  of  the  population  by  Germans  had 
little  success,  but  the  spread  of  German  culture 
and  the  suppression  of  Danish  culture  were  every¬ 
where  steadily  pushed.  German  was  made  com¬ 
pulsory  in  the  schools,  the  courts,  and  the  churches; 
Danish  was  put  under  the  ban  in  public  meetings 
and  theatres;  and  the  Danish  press  and  Danish 
societies  were  subjected  to  various  forms  of 
persecution.  Intercourse  with  Denmark  was  in 
various  ways  restricted  or  made  difficult.  Con¬ 
stant  war  was  waged  against  the  Danish  flag,  and 
even  against  dresses  which  displayed  the  red  and 
white  colors  of  Denmark.  It  was  even  said  that 
the  owner  of  a  white  dog  was  obliged  to  repaint 
his  red  kennel!  The  regular  agents  of  Prussian 
policy  were  omnipresent:  the  police,  the  pastor, 
and  the  schoolmaster.  The  officers’  duty  was 


4o 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


chiefly  negative,  the  suppression  of  Danish  tenden¬ 
cies;  the  schoolmaster’s  was  more  positive,  to 
instil  Germanism  into  the  rising  generation,  partly 
by  teaching  only  in  the  German  language  save  for 
a  small  amount  of  religious  instruction,  partly  by 
the  well  known  propagandist  methods  of  German 
history  and  patriotic  songs.  Thus  all  were  com¬ 
pelled  to  sing,  “Ich  bin  ein  Preusse,  will  ein 
Preusse  sein”;  and  if  a  little  girl  should  say,  “Ich 
bin  kein  Preusse,  will  kein  Preusse  sein,”  she  was 
whipped  and  sent  home. 

Inevitably  the  zone  of  German  speech  crept 
gradually  northward.  In  some  villages  of  central 
Schleswig  which  spoke  only  Danish  half  a  century 
ago,  it  is  said  that  the  language  has  disappeared 
save  among  the  very  old.  Still  the  process  of 
Germanization  was  slow,  and  as  time  went  on 
active  resistance  was  organized  in  the  three  great 
societies  of  the  Language  Union,  the  School  Union, 
and  the  Voters’  Union.  Leaders  found  in  Denmark 
the  Danish  education  which  was  forbidden  them 
at  home,  and  kept  alive  a  strong  tradition  of 
Danish  speech  and  Danish  sympathies.  A  local 
political  party  was  maintained,  and  the  Danish  vote 
increased  after  1886,  although  under  the  German 
gerrymander  of  1867  it  was  still  allowed  to  return 
only  one  member  of  the  Reichstag,  and  that  in 
the  extreme  north.  Treasonable  acts  were  in 
general  avoided,  but  the  hope  of  reunion  with 
Denmark  was  never  entirely  lost. 

The  fortunes  of  the  World  War  gave  at  first  but 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK  41 

little  hope  to  the  pro-Danish  Schleswigers.  They 
served  in  the  German  army  up  to  their  full  capac¬ 
ity;  probably,  as  is  stated,  their  losses  were  pro¬ 
portionately  greater  than  those  among  purely 
German  troops.  It  they  were  not  fighting  their 
own  kin  and  friends,  like  the  soldiers  of  Alsace- 
Lorraine,  they  were  at  least  fighting  in  another’s 
cause.  Denmark,  too,  walked  warily  during  the 
war,  with  the  fate  of  other  small  nations  ever 
before  her  eyes  and  the  profits  of  German  friend¬ 
ship  dangled  in  front  of  her.  It  was  no  time  for 
Schleswig  to  look  for  help  in  this  quarter.  With 
the  armistice,  matters  took  on  a  new  aspect.  Fore¬ 
seeing  that  the  Schleswig  question  would  be  raised 
at  the  peace  table,  Germany  proposed  a  separate 
arrangement  with  Denmark,  and  it  was  some  time 
before  Denmark  readjusted  her  policy  to  corre¬ 
spond  to  a  world  in  which  the  victorious  Allies 
were  able  to  impose  terms  on  a  defeated  Germany. 
Even  then  the  readjustment  was  incomplete. 
Germany  might  become  powerful  again,  and  Den¬ 
mark  must  beware,  so  many  thought,  of  laying  up 
vengeance  for  the  future  by"  acquiring  territory 
which  Germany  might  demand  back.  In  many 
quarters  there  seemed  to  be  genuine  terror  lest  the 
Allies  might  impose  territory  and  obligations  upon 
an  unwilling  Denmark.  A  natural  hesitation  over 
absorbing  alien  elements  was  accompanied  by  a 
fear  lest  many  new  voters  might  upset  the  party 
balance  in  a  small  country.  In  determining  the 
future  of  Schleswig,  it  appeared  that  the  timidity 


42  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

of  Denmark  was  to  have  its  weight,  as  well  as  the 
hopes  of  the  population.  The  Radical  party,  then 
in  power,  wished  only  limited  accessions  of  popu¬ 
lation  in  the  region  of  North  Schleswig;  while  the 
Conservatives  favored  a  more  decided  policy  ex¬ 
tending  into  southern  Schleswig,  though  few  went  so 
far  as  to  demand  outright  the  ancient  frontier  of  the 
Eider  or  even  the  old  rampart  of  the  Dannevirke. 

No  mention  had  been  made  of  Schleswig  in 
President  Wilson’s  Fourteen  Points,  but  a  just 
determination  of  the  question  was  promised  by 
him  in  a  letter  to  certain  Danish-Americans  just 
after  the  armistice  (November  21).  Diplomatic 
conversations  had  indeed  already  begun,  and  Feb¬ 
ruary  21  the  Danish  government  formally  placed 
the  matter  before  the  Peace  Conference  in  an 
expose  made  to  the  Council  of  Ten  by  its  minister 
in  Paris,  Chamberlain  Bernhoft.  It  asked  for  a 
plebiscite  as  soon  as  possible  in  the  region  of  un¬ 
questioned  Danish  speech  north  of  a  line  stretching 
west  from  the  head  of  the  Flensburg  fiord  to  the 
north  of  the  island  of  Sylt  in  the  North  Sea,  a  line 
which  had  been  demanded,  November  17,  1918, 
by  the  North  Schleswig  Voters’  Union  at  Aaben- 
raa.  By  February  sentiment  was  ready  to  ask  for 
a  plebiscite  also  in  a  zone  to  the  south,  which 
included  Flensburg  and  certain  adjacent  territory. 
In  order  that  all  possibilities  of  pressure  might  be 
removed,  the  evacuation  of  German  troops  and 
German  higher  officials  was  requested  in  a  consid¬ 
erable  strip  of  territory  farther  south. 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK 


43 


The  commission  to  which  the  Conference  referred 
the  Schleswig  problem  heard  delegates  from  the 
different  parts  of  the  territory,  as  well  as  reports  of 
the  various  points  of  view  in  Denmark.  The  com¬ 
mission  saw  no  reason  why  the  right  of  voting 
should  be  refused  to  any  part  of  the  region  to  be 
evacuated,  though  it  was  plain  that  some  judgment 
would  need  to  be  used  in  drawing  a  frontier  upon 
the  basis  of  the  voting,  so  as  to  avoid  enclaves  and 
inconvenient  meanderings.  Definite  evidence  was 
before  it  of  a  desire  to  vote  on  the  part  of  many 
persons  in  south  Schleswig.  Accordingly  its  report, 
incorporated  in  the  draft  treaty  submitted  to  the 
Germans  in  May,  provided  for  a  plebiscite  by  three 
zones,  so  that  the  frontier  between  Germany  and 
Denmark  might  be  fixed  in  conformity  with  the 
wishes  of  the  population.  In  the  first  or  northern¬ 
most  zone,  where  the  voting  was  supposed  to  be 
largely  a  matter  of  form,  the  plebiscite  was  to  take 
place  for  the  whole  district  within  three  weeks  of 
the  German  evacuation.  In  the  second  zone  of 
mixed  speech  in  middle  Schleswig,  where  opinion 
was  likely  to  vary  in  different  districts  and  to  be 
affected  somewhat  by  the  result  in  the  first  zone, 
the  voting  was  to  occur  not  more  than  live  weeks 
later  and  to  be  taken  commune  by  commune.  The 
same  method  was  to  be  applied  two  weeks  there¬ 
after  in  the  third  zone,  which  comprised  the 
remainder  of  the  evacuated  territory  extending  to 
the  Eider  and  the  Schlei,  a  region  of  predominantly 
German  speech,  where  the  Danish  tradition  had 


44  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

been  greatly  weakened  in  course  of  time  and  where 
the  people  would  likewise  want  to  know  the  result 
in  the  neighboring  zone  to  the  northward.  Within 
ten  days  of  the  coming  into  force  of  the  treaty 
German  troops  and  higher  officials  were  to  evacuate 
the  whole  territory  north  of  the  Eider  and  the  Schlei, 
and  the  administration  was  to  be  carried  on  by  an 
International  Commission  of  five,  one  appointed  by 
Norway,  one  by  Sweden,  and  three  by  the  Allied 
and  Associated  Powers.  This  commission  was  to 
hold  the  plebiscites  in  accordance  with  provisions 
which  had  been  suggested  by  the  Danish  govern¬ 
ment;  and  upon  the  result  of  the  voting,  with  due 
regard  to  geographic  and  economic  conditions, 
recommend  a  permanent  boundary  to  the  Allied 
and  i\ssociated  Powers.  The  whole  plan  was  care¬ 
fully  drawn  to  secure  as  full  and  free  an  expression 
as  possible  of  the  desires  of  the  population. 

Opposition  came  from  two  sources.  The  Ger¬ 
man  criticisms,  as  handed  in  to  the  Conference 
in  May,  had  little  weight.  They  proposed  to 
limit  the  voting,  and  hence  any  possible  loss  of 
German  territory,  to  a  portion  of  the  first  zone,  on 
the  ground  that  only  there  did  more  than  half  of 
the  population  speak  Danish.  Apart  from  the 
fact  that  this  affirmation  was  based  on  the  official 
language  statistics  of  the  Prussian  census,  which 
was  notoriously  unfavorable  to  non-German  ele¬ 
ments,  the  proposal  started  from  two  inadmissible 
assumptions:  one  that  language  is  the  sole  test  of 
political  sympathy;  the  other  that  no  region  where 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK 


45 


Germans  were  in  a  majority  should  be  allowed 
self-determination,  for,  it  was  implicitly  believed, 
no  German  could  possibly  want  to  leave  the  Father- 
land.  Germany  thus  sought  to  prevent  free 
expression  of  opinion  where  it  might  turn  to 
Germany’s  disadvantage,  at  the  very  moment 
she  clamored  for  it  in  Upper  Silesia,  where  it 
might  possibly  turn  out  in  her  favor.  How 
Germany  hoped  to  control  the  plebiscite  appeared 
from  another  proposal,  namely  that,  all  German 
officials  still  remaining  in  the  country,  the  ad¬ 
ministration  and  the  voting  should  be  in  charge  of 
a  commission  of  Germans  and  Danes,  with  a 
Swedish  chairman! 

The  Danish  objection,  as  voiced  by  the  majority 
Radicals,  was  against  the  inclusion  of  the  third 
zone  in  the  voting.  The  reason  most  generally 
given  was  that  districts  in  this  zone  might  vote 
for  Denmark  from  purely  economic  motives, 
especially  the  desire  to  escape  German  war  taxes 
and  war  indemnities,  and  thus  form  an  irredentist 
minority  in  a  country  with  which  they  were  not 
really  in  sympathy.  Probably  also  there  was  still 
the  lurking  fear  of  the  powerful  neighbor  of  the 
past  and  the  future,  as  well  as  some  measure  of 
friendliness  for  the  new  regime  in  Germany. 

To  such  arguments  the  Conference  yielded, 
cutting  out  of  the  final  treaty  the  plebiscite  in  the 
third  zone  and  its  evacuation  as  well.  The 
change  was  made  at  the  last  moment,  without 
readjustment  of  the  other  provisions,  so  that  this 


46  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

section  of  the  treaty  shows  certain  signs  of  haste. 
The  effect  was  to  take  away  all  opportunity  for 
self-determination  in  the  third  zone  and  to  leave 
the  German  troops  and  administration  here  in  a 
position  to  exert  pressure  on  the  region  to  the 
northward.1 

The  vote  in  the  first  zone,  held  February  io, 
1920,  resulted  in  a  decisive  Danish  majority  of 
three  to  one,  and  led  to  occupation  by  Denmark, 
as  the  treaty  had  provided.  Feeling  ran  high 
in  the  second  zone,  where  the  German  government 
sought  to  influence  the  decision  by  threats  in  the 
Reichstag;  the  struggle  centred  around  Flensburg, 
certain  in  either  event  to  be  a  frontier  town  now 
that  the  third  zone  had  been  eliminated.  The 
plebiscite,  held  March  14,  resulted  decisively  for 
Germany,  the  vote  in  Flensburg  being  overwhelm¬ 
ing  and  only  a  few  scattered  villages  on  the 
islands  voting  for  Denmark.  The  result  failed 
to  satisfy  either  party  entirely,  a  large  Danish 
group  still  wanting  Flensburg,  while  in  the  first 
zone  the  Germans  wished  to  recover  Tonder, 
where  the  voting  had  favored  Germany.  Indeed 
it  remains  to  be  seen  whether  German  hopes  of 
recovery  will  be  limited  to  Tonder. 

One  question  of  which  Denmark  and  the  Schles- 
wigers  showed  great  desire  to  keep  clear  was  the 
Kiel  Canal.  Even  the  widest  limit  of  evacuation 
proposed  carefully  left  a  belt  of  Schleswig  terri¬ 
tory  between  its  southern  border  and  the  canal, 


1  Articles  105-114,  with  official  map. 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK 


47 


lest  what  was  fundamentally  a  question  of  popular 
rights  might  become  complicated  with  a  wholly 
distinct  international  problem.  Only  in  case  of 
the  internationalization  of  the  canal  would  its 
fate  have  reacted  on  the  Schleswig  problem  by 
leaving  an  isolated  strip  of  German  territory  to 
the  north  which  might  then  have  been  separated 
from  Germany  and  attached  to  the  adjacent 
Danish  territory.  Whatever  might  have  been 
said  for  the  internationalization  of  this  great 
waterway,  the  question  was  not  seriously  con¬ 
sidered  at  the  Conference.  The  parallel  to  Suez 
and  Panama  was  too  close!  The  treaty  leaves. 
the  canal  under  German  control,  but  provides  that 
it  shall  be  open  on  terms  of  entire  equality  to  the 
vessels  of  commerce  and  of  war  of  all  nations  at 
peace  with  Germany.1 

The  island  of  Heligoland,  which  England  had 
seized  from  Denmark  in  1807  and  ceded  to  Ger¬ 
many  in  exchange  for  Zanzibar  in  1890,  is  not 
restored  to  either  of  its  former  owners.  Instead 
it  is  stipulated  that  all  fortifications  and  harbor 
works  there  shall  be  destroyed  by  German  labor 
and  at  Germany’s  expense,  and  that  no  similar 
works  shall  be  constructed  in  the  future.'2  Im¬ 
munity  for  the  future  might  do  something  to  offset 
the  great  price  which  England  had  paid  tor  Zanzi¬ 
bar  throughout  the  World  War. 

1  Articles  380-386. 

*  Article  1  if. 


48  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

The  case  of  Belgium  at  the  Peace  Conference 
was  widely  different  from  that  of  Denmark. 
Denmark  had  remained  neutral;  her  neutrality 
had  been  respected  by  others,  and  had  even  been 
a  source  of  commercial  profit;  and  at  the  end  of 
the  war,  without  the  slightest  effort  on  her  part, 
she  saw  all  her  desires  gratified  in  Schleswig. 
Indeed,  her  only  fear  was  lest  she  should  receive 
more  territory  than  she  wanted.  The  neutrality 
of  Belgium,  specially  guaranteed  by  an  inter¬ 
national  treaty,  and  thus  far  more  binding  on  her 
neighbors  than  that  of  Denmark,  had  been  violated 
by  Germany  at  the  very  outbreak  of  the  war. 
Belgium  had  suffered  more  than  four  years  of 
German  occupation,  including  the  systematic  spoli¬ 
ation  of  her  farms,  her  factories,  and  her  railroads, 
and  the  deliberate  attempt  to  divide  her  people 
into  two  separate  Walloon  and  Flemish  states; 
she  had  barely  escaped  permanent  incorporation 
with  Germany.  Yet  all  this  time  she  had  fought 
as  best  she  could  beside  the  Allies;  she  had  made 
heavy  sacrifices;  she  had  stood  for  international 
right.  Belgium  expected  much  from  the  peace, 
and  Belgium  was  in  large  measure  disappointed. 

Belgium  was  disappointed  on  the  economic  side, 
for  she  was  flooded  with  depreciated  German 
currency  which  the  Allies  did  not  take  over,  and 
her  hopes  for  full  priority  on  the  account  of  restora¬ 
tion  and  reparation  were  not  entirely  fulfilled. 
Indeed,  it  soon  became  apparent  that  the  general 
bill  for  reparation  would  far  exceed  the  ability  of 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK 


49 


Germany  to  pay,  and  that  there  were  not  resources 
enough  in  all  Germany  to  meet  that  restoration  of 
invaded  territory  upon  which  President  Wilson 
had  declared  “the  whole  world  was  agreed. ” 
Belgium— Lad—  suffered  less  than  France  by  the 
destruction  of  war  itself,  for  her  territory,  save  in 
the  case  of  the  Meuse  fortresses  and  the  battle 
zone  in  Flanders,  had  not  been  fought  over;  but 
the  German  .occupation  which  she  had  borne  in 
equal  measure  was  relatively  far  more  serious,  for 
it  affected  the  whole  country  and  not  merely  a 
part,  and  it  produced  stagnation  of  industry  and 
cessation  of  commerce  on  a  scale  that  destroyed 
enterprise  and  left  idleness  as  well  as  poverty  in 
its  stead. 

In  territorial  matters  Belgium’s  desires,  save 
for  a  small  correction  of  the  German  frontier, 
concerned  neutral  powers,  Holland  and  Luxem¬ 
burg,  which  were  not  members  of  the  Peace  Con¬ 
ference  and  not  subject  to  its  jurisdiction.  The 
most  that  the  Conference  could  do  was  to  help  in 
the  adjustment  of  Belgium’s  claims,  and  Belgium 
feels  strongly  that  the  Conference  did  not  help 
enough. 

Finally,  Belgium  was  dissatisfied  with  her  whole 
position  at  the  Conference.  During  the  war  she 
had  acted  as  one  of  the  Allies  and  had  her  repre¬ 
sentation  in  the  Allied  councils.  At  Paris  she  was 
only  a  small  power,  limited  to  three  delegates  —  at 
first  even  to  two  —  and  excluded  from  the  guiding 
and  deciding  group  of  the  Five  Great  Powers. 


5o  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

Even  the  decisions  which  directly  concerned  her 
were  taken  by  the  Council  of  Ten  or  the  Council  of 
Four.  She  was  outside,  while  Italy  and  Japan 
were  inside.  Individually  her  delegates  sat  on 
important  committees,  but  there  were  times  when 
Belgium  must  have  felt  far  removed  from  the 
central  tasks  of  the  Conference,  in  the  outer  limbo 
occupied  by  Liberia,  Panama,  and  Siam.  A 
Belgian  told  the  story  of  an  officer  who  had  lost 
both  legs.  “You  will  always  be  a  hero,”  said  a 
consoling  friend.  “No,”  replied  the  officer,  “I 
shall  be  a  hero  for  a  year  and  a  cripple  for  the  rest 
of  my  life.”  Belgium  felt  that  the  days  of  her 
position  as  a  hero  were  over.  You  will  recall  Mr. 
Dooley  on  Lieutenant  Hobson:  “I’m  a  hero,” 
said  the  Lieutenant.  “Are  ye,  faith?”  said  Ad¬ 
miral  Dewey,  “Well,  I  can’t  do  anything  f’r  ye  in 
that  line.  All  th’  hero  jobs  on  this  boat  is 
compitintly  filled  be  mesilf.” 

Let  us  call  to  mind  so  much  of  Belgium’s  history 
as  is  necessary  to  approach  her  modern  problems. 
Belgium  as  a  separate  and  independent  state  has 
existed  only  since  1830,  but  her  national  history 
goes  back  into  the  Middle  Ages.  Easy  of  access 
from  both  the  Rhine  and  the  north  of  France,  the 
territory  of  modern  Belgium  has  always  been  a 
highroad  of  peoples,  for  migration,  commerce, 
and  war,  and  the  natural  meeting-point  of  races 
and  civilizations  from  north  and  south.  It 
formed  a  part  of  the  great  middle  kingdom  created 
between  France  and  Germany  by  the  partition  ol 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK 


5i 


the  Frankish  empire  in  the  ninth  century,  and  with 
the  break-up  of  the  middle  kingdom  it  became  a 
natural  object  of  ambition  from  both  sides.  The 
various  feudal  principalities  which  shared  this 
territory  in  the  Middle  Ages  divided  their  alle¬ 
giance  between  the  king  of  France  and  the  German 
emperor;  and  it  was  not  till  the  fifteenth  century 
that  the  rise  of  a  new  middle  kingdom  under  the 
dukes  of  Burgundy  brought  the  region  of  the 
Netherlands,  northern  as  well  as  southern,  under 
a  single  hand  and  made  them  for  practical  purposes 
independent  of  France  and  Germany.  Enlarged 
toward  the  east  by  the  Emperor  Charles  V  in  the 
sixteenth  century,  the  territories  of  the  Nether¬ 
lands  comprised  seventeen  provinces  and  included 
substantially  what  is  now  Holland  and  Belgium. 

By  the  marriage  of  Mary,  heiress  of  Burgundy, 
to  Maximilian  of  Austria  in  1477  the  seventeen 
provinces  of  the  Netherlands  passed  to  the  house  of 
Hapsburg,  and  thus  to  their  grandson,  the  Emperor 
Charles  V.  Upon  the  division  of  his  possessions  in 
1556  they  went  with  Spain  to  the  so-called  Spanish 
branch  of  the  family,  represented  by  Philip  II. 
Religious  and  political  reasons  led  to  the  great 
revolt  against  Philip  II  in  1568,  a  movement  in 
which  the  whole  seventeen  provinces  joined.  The 
skilful  policy  of  Philip’s  general,  Alexander  Far- 
nese,  succeeded  in  detaching  the  southern  provinces, 
which  had  remained  for  the  most  part  Catholic, 
from  the  Protestant,  or  United,  Netherlands  of  the 
north,  and  from  1 579  on  the  southern  provinces  led 


52 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

a  separate  existence  under  Spanish  rule,  being 
generally  known  as  the  Spanish  Netherlands.  In 
this  period  they  lost  considerable  territory  on  the 
north  to  the  Dutch  and  on  the  south  to  the  French. 

Upon  the  division  of  the  Spanish  dominions  by 
the  treaty  of  Utrecht  in  1713,  the  Spanish  Nether¬ 
lands  were  in  the  following  year  transferred  to 
Austria,  and  were  known  as  the  Austrian  Nether¬ 
lands  until  their  conquest  by  the  armies  of  the 
French  Revolution  in  1794.  They  were  then  in¬ 
corporated  with  France  (1795)  and  organized  into 
nine  departments,  a  state  of  affairs  which  lasted 
until  1814. 

By  the  Congress  of  Vienna  in  1815  the  northern 
and  the  southern  Netherlands  were  reunited,  under 
the  rule  of  a  king  of  the  house  of  Nassau.  After  a 
separation  of  one  hundred  and  thirty-five  years  the 
union  proved  unsatisfactory  to  the  southern  popu¬ 
lation.  Marked  differences  of  religion,  economic 
interest,  and  language  produced  friction  from  the 
start,  which  was  aggravated  by  the  exclusive  policy 
of  the  Dutch,  who,  though  a  minority,  monopo¬ 
lized  the  higher  offices  and  enforced  the  use  of  the 
Dutch  language.  The  revolutionary  movement  of 
1830  kindled  a  revolt  in  the  southern  provinces,  and 
a  separate  government  was  organized  under  a 
constitutional  monarch,  Leopold  of  Saxe-Coburg. 
The  separation  was  declared  “final  and  irrevo¬ 
cable  ”  by  a  convention  of  representatives  of  the  five 
Great  Powers  meeting  in  London  in  1831,  and  the 
treaty  was  accepted  by  Holland  in  1839.  The 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK 


53 


boundaries  of  the  new  kingdom  were,  as  we  shall 
see,  drawn  in  a  manner  quite  unsatisfactory  to  the 
Belgians. 

The  treaty  of  1839  guaranteed  the  independence 
and  the  neutrality  of  Belgium,  while  at  the  same 
time  it  placed  restrictions  on  the  new  state.  By 
Article  VII  it  was  provided  that 

Belgium.  ..  .shall  form  an  independent  and  perpetually 
neutral  state.  It  shall  be  bound  to  observe  the  same 
neutrality  toward  all  other  states. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  that,  while  the  roots  of  Bel¬ 
gian  nationality  lie  deep  in  the  past,  the  modern 
state  was  established  in  a  somewhat  artificial  form, 
its  boundaries  drawn  and  its  international  status 
fixed  by  the  Powers,  not  by  Belgium  itself.  Its 
frontiers  are  in  no  direction  ‘natural’  frontiers. 
At  the  same  time  Belgium  is  dependent  in  the  clos¬ 
est  way  upon  the  outside  world.  It  possesses  the 
densest  population  of  any  country  in  Europe  —  the 
same  number  of  inhabitants  as  the  state  of  Penn¬ 
sylvania,  with  one-fourth  the  area.  In  spite  of  a 
highly  intensive  cultivation,  the  soil  is  unable  to 
produce  sufficient  food,  so  that  sixty  per  cent  of  the 
consumption  of  cereals  is  imported.  For  this  large 
importation  Belgium  is  unable  to  pay  in  minerals, 
its  only  considerable  underground  resource  being 
coal,  of  which  there  has  been  no  surplus  for  export 
since  1910.  It  must  consequently  pay  for  its 
imports  by  exports  of  manufactured  products,  for 
which  the  raw  materials  are  likewise  for  the  most 
part  imported. 


54 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


Belgium  is  thus  a  highly  industrialized  country, 
with  a  large  manufacturing  population.  Its  prin¬ 
cipal  industries  are  iron  furnaces  and  rolling  mills, 
zinc  works,  machinery,  arms,  and  tools;  textiles, 
especially  cotton  goods;  glass,  cement,  and  ce¬ 
ramic  wares;  leather;  and  chemical  products. 
Commerce  is  also  of  the  highest  importance  in  the 
economic  life  of  Belgium.  She  requires  foreign 
imports  of  raw  materials  and  foreign  markets  for 
her  manufactured  articles.  She  has  a  very  large 
transit  trade,  en  route  to  and  from  Germany  and 
northern  France.  In  volume  of  trade  Antwerp 
is  one  of  the  greatest  of  European  ports,  abreast  of 
Hamburg  and  London.  The  system  of  railways 
and  canals  is  elaborate,  with  the  highest  per  capita 
mileage  in  Europe. 

Of  the  territorial  adjustments  desired  by  Bel¬ 
gium,  the  least  considerable  concerned  her  Prus¬ 
sian  frontier.  Belgium  (or  at  that  time  the  Belgian 
part  of  Holland)  and  Prussia  became  neighbors  in 
1815,  in  consequence  of  the  Prussian  annexations 
on  the  left  bank  of  the  Rhine.  The  boundary 
then  drawn  was  not  based  upon  considerations  of 
language  or  history,  still  less  upon  any  expressed 
desire  of  the  inhabitants,  but  was  fixed  primarily 
so  as  to  give  Prussia  a  certain  number  of  people 
as  compensation  for  her  failure  to  receive  Saxony. 
She  thus  acquired  the  eastern  part  of  the  lands  of 
the  abbey  of  Stavelot-Malmedy;  the  territory  of 
St.  Vith,  which  had  belonged  to  Luxemburg;  and  a 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK 


55 


portion  of  Limburg  in  the  region  of  Eupen.  This 
land  was  largely  hill  and  forest,  of  no  great  eco¬ 
nomic  value,  and  it  was  used  by  Prussia  chiefly 
for  military  purposes.  Strategic  railroads,  of  little 
importance  in  time  of  peace,  were  constructed 
along  the  Belgian  and  Luxemburg  frontiers,  and  the 
great  military  camp  of  Elsenborn  was  built  in  this 
very  region  to  serve  for  the  concentration  of  troops 
against  the  invasion  of  Belgium.  Liege,  Belgium’s 
great  industrial  center,  was  only  eighteen  miles 
from  the  German  border,  and  the  taking  of  Liege  in 
1914  opened  up  the  whole  valley  of  the  Meuse. 

Belgium  asked  a  minimum  of  protection  for  the 
future.  It  was  plain  that  such  protection  could 
not  come  from  any  considerable  advance  of  the 
frontier  on  the  part  of  so  small  a  state,  but  must 
be  found  chiefly  in  the  demilitarization  of  the  Left 
Bank  and  in  measures  for  general  peace.  At  least, 
however,  Belgium  might  ask  control  over  some  of 
the  military  railroads  and  over  the  camp  of  Elsen¬ 
born. 

If  purely  strategic  arguments  had  prevailed, 
they  would  have  carried  the  Belgian  frontier  for¬ 
ward  to  the  Rhine  or  to  the  mountain  range  of  the 
Eiffel.  Within  the  narrower  limits  chosen,  the 
strategic  considerations  were  reenforced  by  others: 
the  economic  orientation  of  this  region  toward 
Belgium  rather  than  toward  Germany;  the  his¬ 
toric  connection  before  1815;  and  the  opportunity 
for  reparation,  for  this  sparsely  peopled  territory 
was  rich  in  forests,  which  might  serve  to  replace 


56  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

the  Belgian  forests  which  had  been  systematically 
destroyed  by  Germany  during  the  war,  leaving  a 
frontier  line  which  can  be  followed  for  miles  by  the 
standing  timber  on  the  German  side  and  its  absence 
on  the  Belgian.  The  linguistic  line  was  less  sharp. 
German  was  spoken  in  certain  districts  on  the 
Belgian  side;  while,  in  spite  of  a  century  of  Ger- 
manization,  Walloon  still  prevailed  in  Malmedy 
and  the  neighboring  Prussian  villages.  Indeed, 
Malmedy  was  in  many  ways  like  a  Belgian  town, 
and  German  troops  in  1914  are  said  to  have  begun 
pillaging  here  under  the  impression  that  they  were 
already  in  Belgium. 

The  actual  wishes  of  the  population  in  the  ceded 
districts  had  not  been  expressed,  so  it  was  provided 
in  the  treaty  that  during  the  six  months  after  its 
coming  into  force  the  Belgian  authorities  should 
open  registers  in  which  the  inhabitants  might 
record  a  desire  to  have  any  part  of  the  ceded  terri¬ 
tory  remain  under  German  sovereignty,  the  results 
to  be  passed  upon  by  the  League  of  Nations.  It 
would  have  been  more  consistent  with  the  rest 
of  the  treaty  if  the  League  had  also  been  entrusted 
with  securing  the  original  expression  of  opinion. 
The  territory  transferred  by  the  treaty  comprised 
376  square  miles  with  a  population  of  61,000,  con¬ 
stituting  the  Kreise  of  Malmedy  and  Eupen,  whose 
administrative  limits  were  preserved  in  order  to 
interfere  as  little  as  possible  with  local  conditions. 

The  treaty  also  settled  an  old  controversy  in 

1  Articles  34-39,  with  official  map. 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK 


57 


this  region  respecting  the  district  of  Moresnet, 
disputed  between  Belgium  (until  1839  Holland)  and 
Prussia  since  1815,  when  two  inconsistent  boundary 
lines  of  the  treaty  of  Vienna  left  in  doubt  the  sov¬ 
ereignty  over  a  triangular  area  of  about  900  acres 
which  contained  the  valuable  zinc  mine  of  Yieille 
Montagne.  Neither  side  would  yield,  and  a  con¬ 
vention  of  1816  which  provided  for  the  neutraliza¬ 
tion  of  the  area  under  a  condominium  or  joint  ad¬ 
ministration  lasted  until  the  war.  With  the  exhaus¬ 
tion  of  the  mine  the  district  has  declined  in  import¬ 
ance,  but  the  anomaly  needed  clearing  up,  as  the 
Germans  had  frequently  declared.  The  treaty 
assigns  the  disputed  territory  to  Belgium,  and  adds 
a  square  mile  or  so  in  Prussian  Moresnet,  compris¬ 
ing  the  domanial  and  communal  woods.1 

Far  more  important  for  Belgium  was  the  question 
of  her  relations  with  another  eastern  neighbor,  the 
duchy  of  Luxemburg.  An  integral  part  of  the 
southern  Netherlands  until  the  French  Revolution, 
Luxemburg  had  in  1815  been  made  into  a  grand 
duchy  and  handed  over  to  the  king  of  Holland. 
It  revolted  with  Belgium  in  1830  and  sent  members 
to  the  Belgian  Parliament,  but  on  the  final  sepa¬ 
ration  of  Belgium  and  Holland  in  1839  it  was 
divided,  the  western  or  Walloon  portion  going  to 
Belgium,  and  the  eastern  or  German-speaking 
portion  continuing  as  the  grand  duchy.  The 
dynastic  union  with  Holland  came  to  an  end  in 
1890,  when  a  divergence  in  the  laws  of  succession 
established  a  separate  line  of  grand  dukes. 

1  Articles  32,  33. 


58  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

The  neutrality  of  Luxemburg  was  specially  and 
perpetually  guaranteed  by  the  Powers,  Prussia 
included,  in  1867;  but  the  state  was  not  in  every 
respect  independent.  Cut  off  from  its  Belgian 
markets  by  the  separation  of  1839,  it  entered  three 
years  later  the  German  Zollverein,  of  which  it  con¬ 
tinued  a  member  until  the  close  of  the  World  War. 
Its  railroads  also  passed  under  German  control  in 
1871,  with  a  proviso  that  they  should  not  be  used 
for  military  purposes.  They  were  nevertheless 
extended  and  double-tracked  in  the  direction  of 
France  and  Belgium,  for  military  reasons  which 
became  clearly  apparent  in  1914.  August  1  of  that 
year  the  German  occupation  of  Luxemburg  began, 
and  the  country  remained  a  base  of  military  opera¬ 
tions  throughout  the  war.  Unlike  Belgium, 
Luxemburg  made  no  resistance.  Indeed,  its  gov¬ 
ernment  was  considered  very  friendly  to  Germany 
—  une  dynastie  boche ,  the.  French  called  it  and 
the  final  victory  of  the  Allies  was  followed  January 
15  by  the  abdication  of  the  grand  duchess,  Marie 
Adelheid,  in  favor  of  her  sister  Charlotte. 

It  was  plain  that  the  Allies,  Belgium  and  France 
most  of  all,  could  not  permit  a  return  of  Luxem¬ 
burg  to  German  control;  and  it  was  equally  plain 
that,  whatever  political  independence  the  grand 
duchy  retained,  it  could  not  stand  economically 
alone.  With  but  260,000  people  and  1000  square 
miles  of  territory,  it  was  not  large  enough  for  that; 
and  its  principal  industry,  iron,  needed  the  coal 
and  the  markets  of  adjacent  lands.  Belgium  felt 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK 


59 


that  Luxemburg  would  naturally  turn  to  her.  The 
people  were  Catholic;  the  language  of  government 
and  of  the  educated  classes  was  French;  there  were 
strong  ties  of  tradition  and  sentiment  between  the 
two  countries.  Belgium  counted,  counted  too 
confidently,  on  the  result.  She  forgot  the  strong 
feeling  for  local  independence  among  the  Luxem- 
burgers,  who,  as  their  national  song  runs,  ‘want  to 
remain  what  they  are’;  she  forgot  the  strength  of 
dynastic  tradition  and  clerical  influence.  For  any 
union  with  Belgium  spelled  the  end  of  the  local 
dynasty  and  of  national  identity,  and  might,  it  was 
feared,  mean  the  swallowing  up  of  a  conservative 
Catholic  people  by  a  larger  and  more  Socialistic 
neighbor. 

France  also  wanted  Luxemburg.  She  wanted  it 
for  purposes  of  defence,  so  as  to  prevent  a  repeti¬ 
tion  of  1914;  she  wanted  its  iron  mines  and  blast 
furnaces.  And,  unlike  the  Belgians,  she  knew  how 
to  wait.  The  treaty  of  peace  merely  insisted  upon 
the  permanent  detachment  of  Luxemburg  from  the 
Zollverein,  and  the  abandonment  of  all  German 
control  over  its  railways.1  It  did  not  touch  the 
dynasty;  it  compelled  no  new  attachments.'  Mean¬ 
while  France,  in  the  full  glamor  of  victory,  with  a 
brilliant  staff  quartered  in  the  duchy  itself,  dazzled 
the  imagination  of  the  Luxemburgers.  They  were 
brought  to  think  that,  while  any  arrangement  with 
Belgium  threatened  their  independence,  this  could 
be  amply  safeguarded  in  a  merely  economic  union 

1  Articles  40,  41. 


6o 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


with  France.  In  the  winter  French  troops  even 
suppressed  a  little  revolution  against  the  dynasty. 
And  when  the  plebiscite  came,  September  28,  1919, 
a  decided  majority  pronounced  for  the  reigning 
duchess  and  for  a  customs  union  with  France. 
Women  voted  for  the  first  time  in  this  election, 
and  while  no  separate  returns  were  made  of  their 
votes,  it  is  not  likely  that  they  diminished  the  pro¬ 
portion  of  votes  for  the  duchess. 

Of  all  the  German  ruling  families  which  were  in 
power  in  1918,  the  sole  survivor  today  is  that  of 
the  grand  duchess  of  Luxemburg.  And  the  only 
surviving  Austrian  prince  is  her  consort,  Prince 
Felix  of  Bourbon-Parma,  naturalized  as  a  Luxem¬ 
burger  November  5,  1919,  by  a  close  vote  in  the 
Chamber  and  married  the  following  day.  And 
if  some  time  these  two  should  disappear  in  another 
revolution,  the  republic  which  would  follow  seems 
likely  to  seek  support  from  France  rather  than  from 
Belgium. 

Belgium’s  chief  territorial  difficulties  lie  on  the 
side  of  Holland,  which  controls  the  lower  courses 
of  her  two  great  rivers,  the  Scheldt  and  the  Meuse, 
and  hems  in  Belgium  on  her  northeast  corner  in 
Limburg  and  on  her  northwest  corner  in  Flanders. 
The  embarrassment  is  partly  strategic,  limiting 
Belgium’s  freedom  in  time  of  war,  partly  economic, 
restricting  the  foreign  commerce  which  is  the 
lifeblood  of  the  Belgian  people.  From  any  point 
of  view,  the  Dutch-Belgian  frontier  is  unnatural. 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK 


61 


It  requires  explanation  as  soon  as  you  see  it  on  the 
map.  No  one  would  draw  such  a  frontier  if  he 
were  starting  afresh.  But  it  is  an  historic  frontier, 
and  the  ancient  frontiers  of  a  neutral  power  are 
hard  things  for  a  peace  congress  to  disturb. 

The  long  tongue  of  land  which  constitutes  the 
southern  prolongation  of  Dutch  Limburg  has 
diverse  historical  origins.  Its  chief  town,  Maes- 
tricht,  with  parts  of  the  adjacent  country,  has 
been  Dutch  since  the  seventeenth  century.  Other 
parts  belonged  to  the  southern  Netherlands,  and 
were  acquired  by  the  king  of  Holland  as  ‘compensa¬ 
tion’' in  1839.  Like  Luxemburg,  Limburg  joined 
in  the  Belgian  revolution  of  1830  and  had  repre¬ 
sentatives  in  the  Belgian  parliament  until  1839. 
But  in  the  final  separation  the  peninsula  was 
given  to  Holland,  greatly  to  Belgium’s  dissatis¬ 
faction.  An  outlying  region,  it  complained  of 
neglect  by  the  Dutch  government,  and  its  eco¬ 
nomic  relations  were  rather  with  the  adjacent  lands 
of  Belgium  and  Germany  on  either  side.  Recently, 
with  the  development  of  its  important  coal  mines, 
the  Dutch  have  taken  much  more  interest  in 
Limburg,  and  active  efforts  have  been  made  to 
counteract  pro-Belgian  tendencies. 

The  grievances  of  the  Belgians  respecting  Lim¬ 
burg  are  twofold.  Lrom  a  military  point  of  view, 
it  cannot  be  defended  by  Holland,  whose  troops 
were  withdrawn  therefrom  early  in  the  late  war. 
The  Dutch  claimed  that  its  neutrality  was  a 
protection  for  Belgium.  The  Belgians,  with  no 


62 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


illusions  as  to  German  respect  for  neutral  territory, 
replied  that  they  had  no  permanent  assurance  of 
this,  and  that  Limburg  would  have  been  crossed 
in  1914  if  a  breach  had  not  finally  been  forced  at 
Liege.  They  made  much  of  the  fact  that  after 
the  armistice  German  troops,  to  the  number  of 
some  80,000,  had  been  allowed  to  go  home  with 
their  booty  by  this  route,  thus  escaping  capture 
or  internment  in  Holland.  The  explanations  of 
the  Dutch  were  lame,  but  the  offence  could  hardly 
be  said  to  merit  severe  punishment.  The  eco¬ 
nomic  grievances  of  the  Belgians  were  more 
serious.  Astride  the  Meuse  at  Maestricht,  the 
Dutch  have  delayed  improvement  and  hindered 
canal  navigation.  In  eight  miles  of  canal  there 
are  four  sets  of  customs  formalities,  consuming 
several  days.  Moreover,  the  best  route  for  a 
Rhine-Scheldt  canal,  to  the  construction  of  which 
Germany  consented  in  the  treaty,1  lies  via  Limburg, 
the  levels  across  the  region  of  the  upper  Meuse 
being  too  difficult.  If  Belgium  could  not  have 
Limburg,  she  at  least  wanted  military  guarantees 
and  economic  facilities. 

Important  as  is  the  Meuse  to  Belgium,  her  great 
highway  is  the  Scheldt.  To  all  intents  and  pur¬ 
poses  an  arm  of  the  sea,  the  Scheldt  is  navigable 
for  ocean-going  vessels  as  far  as  Antwerp,  55  miles 
from  its  mouth.  Without  it,  Belgium  becomes 
practically  an  inland  country,  for  its  42  miles  of 
North  Sea  coast  have  no  harbors  of  value.  Yet 


1  Article  361. 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK  63 

the  lower  Scheldt  is  not  Belgian  nor  even  neutral; 
it  belongs  to  Holland,  through  whose  territories  it 
passes  for  45  miles  of  its  course.  And  it  has  be¬ 
longed  to  Holland  since  the  sixteenth  century, 
when  the  weakness  of  Spain  and  the  strength  of 
the  Dutch  fixed  the  northern  boundary  of  the 
Spanish  Netherlands.  When  the  treaty  of  West¬ 
phalia  (1648)  confirmed  the  northern  provinces 
in  the  possession  of  the  left  bank  of  the  Scheldt, 
it  also  gave  them  the  right  to  close  completely  the 
mouths  of  the  river  and  its  tributaries.  The 
purpose  of  this  was  to  favor  Amsterdam  and 
Rotterdam,  and  in  consequence  grass  grew  in  the 
streets  of  Antwerp.  The  revival  of  Belgium  s 
great  port  became  possible  only  with  the  French 
Revolution,  which  reopened  the  river,  while  the 
treaty  of  Vienna  declared  navigation  free  on  the 
Scheldt  as  well  as  the  Meuse.  The  existing  state  ol 
affairs  on  the  Scheldt  was  established  by  the  treaty 
of  1839,  which  created  “a  special  regime  which  is 
neither  that  of  the  sea  nor  that  of  ordinary  rivers.” 

The  regime  created  by  the  treaty  of  1839  has 
never  been  satisfactory  to  the  Belgians.  One  of 
its  provisions  reads: 1 

So  far  as  regards  specially  the  navigation  of  the  Scheldt 
and  of  its  mouths,  it  is  agreed  that  the  pilotage  and  the 
buoying  of  the  channel,  as  well  as  the  conservation  of  the 
channels  of  the  Scheldt  below  Antwerp,  shall  be  subject  to  a 
joint  superintendence,  and  that  this  joint  superintendence 
shall  be  exercised  by  commissioners  to  be  appointed  for  this 
purpose  by  the  two  parties.  Moderate  pilotage  dues  shall 
be  fixed  by  mutual  agreement. 

1  Article  9,  §2. 


64  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

The  Dutch  have  interpreted  this  strictly  as  giving 
the  joint  commission  control  only  over  the  pilotage 
(two  concurrent  services)  and  over  keeping  the  chan¬ 
nels  open  and  properly  marked  and  buoyed.  The 
Belgians,  on  the  other  hand,  have  contended  that 
the  commission  should  have  cognizance  of  matters 
upon  which  the  extent  and  security  of  the  channels 
depend,  such  as  diking,  drainage,  encroachments 
on  the  river  and  its  accessory  waters,  etc.,  their 
ground  being  that  the  Scheldt  constitutes  a  single 
hydrographic  problem,  no  portion  of  which  can  be 
properly  treated  without  reference  to  the  whole. 
They  allege  the  failure  to  make  sufficient  modern 
improvements  on  the  western  Scheldt  because  of 
the  indifference  of  the  Dutch  authorities,  and  they 
also  complain  of  the  serious  difficulties  of  drainage 
in  Belgian  Flanders  caused  by  raising  the  level  of 
the  Dutch  lands  between  it  and  the  Scheldt. 
Being  interested  in  the  use  of  the  river  to  a  far 
greater  degree  than  the  Dutch,  the  Belgians  find  it 
intolerable  to  be  dependent  on  Dutch  consent  to 
every  act  of  maintenance  or  improvement.  Bel¬ 
gium  pays  the  entire  cost  of  improvements,  but  the 
consent  of  Holland  is  necessary.  Thus  the  Ter- 
neuzen  canal,  which  connects  Ghent  with  the 
Scheldt,  was  built  by  Dutch  engineers  but  at 
Belgium’s  expense,  and  the  Dutch  portion  does 
not  correspond  to  the  portion  south  of  the  frontier. 
Holland’s  position  throughout  is  essentially  nega¬ 
tive.  The  Scheldt  furthers  no  major  interest  of 
hers;  she  has  no  important  towns  along  its  banks. 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK  65 

no  foreign  trade  which  it  carries;  its  improvement 
benefits  only  a  commercial  rival. 

In  time  of  war  Holland  interprets  her  sovereignty 
as  compelling  her  to  close  the  river  to  belligerents. 
In  August  1914  English  reenforcements  were  thus 
forbidden  to  relieve  Antwerp,  although  their 
purpose  was  to  maintain  Belgian  neutrality,  while 
Belgian  troops  were  denied  exit  by  the  river  and 
forced,  to  the  number  of  several  thousand,  to  suffer 
internment  in  Holland.  Such  control  of  the  river 
nullifies  the  centre  of  Belgium’s  defensive  system 
at  Antwerp;  it  might  also  permit  the  turning  ol  her 
Flemish  defences  in  case  of  a  war  with  Holland. 
The  Dutch  maintain  that  the  neutrality  of  the 
Scheldt  during  the  Great  War  was  of  real  assistance 
to  the  Allies,  who  would  otherwise  have  suffered 
from  German  submarine  bases  along  its  banks; 
but  the  Belgians  point  out  that  the  closing  of  the 
river  in  war  destroys  at  one  blow  the  whole  foreign 
commerce  of  Antwerp,  a  result  that  might  ensue 
even  in  a  war  in  which  Holland  was  a  party  and 
Belgium  neutral. 

The  simplest  solution  of  the  problem  of  the 
Scheldt  would  be  the  elimination  of  Holland  from 
its  southern  shore,  which  she  has  held  lor  more  than 
three  hundred  years.  This  land,  called  Maritime 
or  Zealand  Flanders  (Flandre  zelandaise,  Ryks- 
vlaanderen),  has  an  area  of  275  square  miles  and  a 
population  of  78,677,  chiefly  Catholic.  Its  eco¬ 
nomic  relations  are  mainly  with  Belgium,  but  it 
has  manifested  no  desire  to  change  its  political 


66 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


affiliations,  and  has  recently  been  assiduously 
cultivated  by  Holland.  A  less  drastic  measure 
would  be  the  admission  of  Belgium  to  co-sover¬ 
eignty  on  the  lower  Scheldt,  leaving  Holland  in 
possession  of  its  banks.  Still  another  possibility 
would  be  the  complete  internationalization  of  the 
river,  under  the  League  of  Nations.  These  solu¬ 
tions,  especially  the  first  two,  have  been  energet¬ 
ically  opposed  in  Holland  as  infringements  on  her 
sovereignty.  The  question  of  her  boundaries  was 
not,  she  declared,  a  matter  for  the  Peace  Conference. 

It  was  indeed  suggested  at  Paris  that  Holland 
might  be  induced  to  relinquish  Zealand  Flanders 
and  Limburg  in  return  for  a  compensation  in  the 
Prussian  territory  on  her  eastern  frontier,  either  in 
East  Friesland  or  in  the  region  of  Cleves  and  Wesel 
on  the  lower  Rhine,  districts  which  once  had  much 
in  common  with  the  adjacent  portions  of  the  Neth¬ 
erlands.  There  was,  however,  no  indication  of 
any  desire  on  the  part  of  the  inhabitants  of  these 
territories  to  change  their  political  allegiance, 
nor  was  Holland  in  the  least  disposed  to  face  the 
uncertainties  arising  out  of  any  such  exchange. 
The  whole  idea  smacked  too  strongly  of  the  methods 
of  the  Congress  of  Vienna. 

One  matter  affecting  Holland  did,  however, 
concern  the  Conference,  namely  Belgium’s  com¬ 
pulsory  and  guaranteed  neutrality,  and  it  was  the 
Belgian  contention  that  this  involved  also  her 
frontiers.  The  international  status  of  Belgium 
rests  upon  the  three  treaties  of  April  19,  1839,  one 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK  67 

between  the  Five  Great  Powers  and  Belgium,  one 
between  these  powers  and  Holland,  and  one  be¬ 
tween  Holland  and  Belgium.  These  documents, 
in  substance  identical,  fix  the  boundaries  of 
Belgium  at  the  safne  time  that  they  establish  her 
as  an  independent  and  perpetually  neutralized 
state,  “bound  to  observe  the  same  neutrality 
toward  all  other  states.”  This  whole  system  of 
neutrality  collapsed  in  1914,  and  Belgium  wanted 
no  more  of  it.  By  the  time  of  the  Peace  Con¬ 
ference  Prussia,  Austria,  and  Russia  were  certainly 
in  no  position  to  guarantee  Belgium’s  neutrality, 
while  France  and  England  joined  with  Belgium  in 
considering  a  revision  of  the  treaties  necessary. 
Upon  the  advice  of  its  Commission  on  Belgian 
Affairs,  the  Conference  took  the  position  that  the 
treaties,  as  constituting  a  single  entity,  should  be 
revised  in  the  entirety  of  their  clauses,  at  the 
joint  request  of  these  three  powers,  and  that 
Holland  as  a  signatory  of  one  of  the  treaties  should 
take  part  in  the  revision,  together  with  the  Great 
Powers  whose  interests  were  general.  The  declared 
object  of  the  revision  was  “to  free  Belgium  from 
that  limitation  on  her  sovereignty  which  was 
imposed  on  her  by  the  treaties  of  1839,  and,  in  the 
interest  both  of  Belgium  and  of  general  peace,  to 
remove  the  dangers  and  disadvantages  arising 
from  the  said  treaties.”  Belgium  and  Holland 
were  accordingly  invited  to  appear  before  the 
Conference  in  order  to  set  forth  their  views  with 
regard  to  such  a  revision. 


68 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

This  action  was  taken  by  the  Council  of  Ten 
March  8;  but  the  Conference  was  busy  with  more 
pressing  things,  and  it  was  not  until  May  19  and  20 
that  the  representatives  of  the  two  countries  were 
at  last  heard.  The  Belgians  maintained  that 
Belgium  had  been  given  weak  frontiers  in  1839  on 
the  ground  that  she  was  to  be  protected  by  the 
Powers;  such  protection  having  failed  disastrously 
in  1914,  she  should  be  given  frontiers  which  would 
enable  her  to  hold  her  own  with  her  neighbors, 
in  war  and  in  peace.  The  unlimited  sovereignty 
which  had  been  promised  her  in  President  Wilson’s 
seventh  point  ought  to  carry  with  it  the  frontiers 
denied  her  in  the  days  of  her  weakness.  Holland 
had  no  objection  to  the  abandonment  of  Belgium’s 
neutrality,  which  had  been  guaranteed  to  her  as 
well  as  to  Belgium,  but  she  would  not  consider 
for  a  moment  any  cession  of  her  own  territory. 
She  declared,  however,  that  she  was  ready  to  dis¬ 
cuss  amicably  with  Belgium  any  adjustments  of 
the  conditions  of  navigation,  etc. 

A  commission  was  then  appointed,  representing 
Belgium  and  Holland  as  well  as  the  principal 
Allied  and  Associated  Powers,  but  its  field  was  spe¬ 
cifically  restricted  to  “proposals  involving  neither 
transfer  of  territorial  sovereignty  nor  the  creation 
of  international  servitudes.”  As  any  thorough¬ 
going  settlement  satisfactory  to  Belgium  could  not 
help  touching  in  some  way  the  sovereignty  of  Hol¬ 
land,  and  as  the  regime  of  the  Scheldt  already  con¬ 
stituted  an  international  servitude,  the  terms  of 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK  69 

reference  were  generally  regarded  as  a  triumph  for 
the  Dutch.  The  commission  went  to  work  in  the 
summer  in  two  sections,  one  military  and  the  other 
economic,  but  no  final  results  had  been  reached 
when  the  Peace  Conference  dissolved  in  December. 
The  reference  of  such  outstanding  matters  to  the 
governments  concerned  is  another  victory  for 
Holland,  who  desires  no  change  in  the  existing 
situation.  In  these  matters  Belgium  has  derived 
little  advantage  from  the  support  of  her  allies. 
Holland  still  holds  the  lower  Scheldt  and  the  lower 
Meuse;  Luxemburg  seems  permanently  lost;  ex¬ 
cept  in  the  matter  of  her  neutrality,  Belgium  stands 
substantially  where  she  stood  in  1839. 

If  the  territorial  status  of  Belgium  has  not 
been  essentially  bettered  by  the  war,  her  economic 
status  is  certainly  worse.  No  share  in  a  proble¬ 
matic  indemnity  will  compensate  her  for  her  direct 
losses,  not  to  speak  of  her  other  expenses  —  the 
stripping  of  her  resources,  the  enforced  idleness  of 
her  factories,  the  disappearance  of  her  foreign 
markets  and  her  transit  trade.  Dependent  in  an 
extraordinary  degree  on  the  outside  world,  Bel¬ 
gium  was  cut  off  from  it  for  nearly  five  years,  and 
it  is  a  question  how  fully  she  can  recover  her 
previous  position.  A  hero  in  1914,  is  Belgium 
to  remain  a  cripple  for  the  future?  The  German 
is  gone,  but  he  left  ruin  and  disillusion  behind  him. 
Small  wonder  that  many  a  Belgian  asks  whether 
it  was  all  worth  while,  as  he  contrasts  his  lean  and 
hungry  country  with  the  prosperity  of  neutral 


7o  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

Holland.  Small  wonder  that  the  neutral  world, 
as  it  looks  to  the  future,  is  encouraged  to  imitate 
the  Holland  that  stood  pat,  the  Luxemburg  that 
succumbed,  rather  than  the  Belgium  that  resisted. 
The  neutral  is  more  prosperous  than  the  ally. 

In  order  to  get  a  just  perspective  in  the  face  of 
such  considerations,  it  is  necessary  to  go  back  a 
few  months.  Germany  s  plan  was  not  merely  to 
use  Belgium  as  a  highroad  to  France,  but  to  make 
Belgium  permanently  subject  to  German  interests, 
if  not  politically  subject,  at  least  under  complete 
military  and  economic  control.  The  German  lit¬ 
erature  of  the  war,  official  and  unofficial,  is  full  or 
plans  for  the  permanent  control  of  Belgium 
political  annexation,  at  least  of  that  great  Flemish¬ 
speaking  half  of  the  country  which  tne  German 
administration  had  separated  from  the  rest  of 
Belgium,  and  which,  if  not  annexed  outright,  was 
to  remain  apart  as  the  great  support  of  German 
policy  in  the  Belgium  of  the  future;  military  con¬ 
trol,  of  railroads  and  telegraphs,  perhaps  of  the 
Flemish  coast  and  the  fortresses  of  the  Meuse; 
economic  control,  through  a  customs  union,  rail¬ 
way  tariffs,  port  privileges,  and  the  domination 
of  Belgian  industrial  enterprises.  Now  Belgium 
has  at  least  escaped  all  this.  She  has  maintained 
her  independence  while  she  has  saved  her  soul. 
When  discouraged  about  the  present  state  of  the 
world,  it  is  well  to  remind  ourselves  that  the  war 
accomplished,  at  least  for  the  time  being,  one 
great  thing  it  set  out  to  secure,  the  destruction 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK  71 

of  German  militarism  and  the  protection  of  small 
states  against  the  imperial  ambitions  of  Gemany. 
Belgium  has  also  improved  her  colonial  position, 
not  only  by  frustrating  German  plans  against  the 
Belgian  Congo,  but  by  receiving  a  mandate  over 
an  adjacent  portion  of  German  East  Africa. 

For  the  future  Belgium’s  security  lies  in  a  strong 
League  of  Nations  and  in  what  such  a  League 
stands  for.  At  first  Belgian  statesmen  took  the 
League  somewhat  coldly,  for  the  treaty  of  1839  was 
an  international  covenant,  and  they  had  ample 
experience  of  the  futility  of  mere  paper  guaran¬ 
tees.  If  the  League  covenant  were  merely  another 
piece  of  paper,  they  would  be  right.  The  hopetul 
side  of  the  League  lies  rather  in  its  assurance  of 
general  cooperation,  its  growth  as  an  administra¬ 
tive  and  informing  body,  its  development  of  an 
international  habit  of  mind  and  an  international 
conscience.  After  all,  it  was  the  sense  of  inter¬ 
national  right  that  brought  the  world  to  Belgium’s 
side  in  the  Great  War,  and  it  is  in  the  broadening 
and  deepening  of  that  sense  that  the  chiet  hope 
lies  in  the  future.  For  centuries  the  position  ot 
Belgium  surrounded  by  France,  Germany,  and 
England  has  made  it  the  battleground  of  Europe, 
and  it  is  only  by  diminishing  the  likelihood  of 
battles  that  it  can  hope  to  escape  this  fate.  The 
best  guarantees  of  the  security  of  small  states  are  a 
stronger  sense  of  right  and  justice  throughout  the 
world. 


72 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


Bibliographical  Note 

On  the  problem  of  Schleswig  the  best  collection  is  the  Manual 
historique  de  la  question  du  Slesvig,  ed.  F.  de  Jessen  (Copenhagen, 
1906);  supplemented  by  Le  Slesvig  du  Nord,  1906—1914  (Copen¬ 
hagen,  1915)-  For  a  German  view,  see  E.  Daenell,  Das  Danentum 
in  Nordschleswig  seit  1864  (Kiel,  1913).  After  the  armistice 
Daenell  protested  strongly  against  the  surrender  of  any  part  of 
Schleswig  to  Denmark:  Has  Denmark  a  claim  to  North  Sleswick? 
(Munster,  1918).  For  a  summary  of  conditions  under  Prussian 
rule,  see  L.  M.  Larson,  in  American  Historical  Review,  xxiv,  pp. 
227-252  (1919);  and  M.  Mackeprang,  Nordslesvig  (Copenhagen, 
1910;  German  translation,  1912).  For  the  Danish  discussion  in 
1919,  see  Miss  Karen  Larsen,  in  Political  Science  Quarterly,  Decem¬ 
ber,  1919-  G.  Rosendal’s  Sonderjylland  (Odense,  [1919])  contains 
convenient  maps  and  statistics.  See  also  the  British  Handbook. 

For  the  history  of  Belgium,  the  standard  work  of  H.  Pirenne  has 
not  advanced  beyond  1648;  there  are  brief  sketches  by  L.  van  der 
Essen  (Chicago,  1916)  and  L.  Vander  Linden  (Paris,  1918).  Gen¬ 
eral  economic  conditions  are  described  by  W.  Biirklin,  Handbuch 
des  belgischen  Wirtschaftslebens  (Gottingen  and  Berlin,  1916);  and 
by  Gehrig  and  Wantig,  Belgiens  Volkswirtschaft  (Leipzig,  1918). 
An  admirable  special  study  of  Belgian  commerce  will  be  found  in 
A.  Demangeon,  “Le  port  d’Anvers,”  in  Annales  de geographie,  1918, 
pp.  307-339,  elaborated  in  the  second  volume  of  the  Travaux  du 
Comite  d’Etudes.  For  Belgium’s  coal  and  mineral  resources,  see 
P.  Krusch,  Die  nutzbaren  Lagerstdtten  Belgiens  (Essen,  1916).  The 
British  Handbook  on  Belgium  (1920)  is  particularly  convenient, 
as  are  the  related  pamphlets  in  the  same  series. 

German  plans  for  permanent  control  of  Belgium  are  illustrated 
in  S.  Grumbach,  Das  annexionistische  Deutschland  (Lausanne,  1917; 
abbreviated  translation,  New  York,  1917);  and  in  Notestein  and 
Stoll,  Conquest  and  Kultur  (Washington,  1918).  A  specimen  of  this 
vast  literature  of  annexation  may  be  seen  in  the  work  of  a  Bonn 
professor:  E.  Zitelmann,  Das  Schicksal  Belgiens  beim  Friedensschluss 
(third  edition,  Munich,  1917),  where  the  systematic  subjection  of 
Belgium  is  planned.  The  exploitation  of  the  Flemish  question 
by  the  Germans  is  described  by  F.  Passelecq,  La  question  flamande 
et  r Allemagne  (Paris  and  Nancy,  1917). 

The  problems  of  Belgium’s  frontiers  are  not  covered  in  any  single 
book.  The  Belgian  point  of  view  will  be  found  in  P.  Nothomb, 
La  barriere  beige  (Paris,  1916);  one  chapter  also  as  Histoire  beige  du 


BELGIUM  AND  DENMARK  73 

grand  ducht  de  Luxembourg  (Paris,  1918).  See  also  E.  Bourgeois, 
La  frontiere  orientale  du  royaume  de  Belgique,  in  Travaux  du  Comite 
d'Etudes,  ii.  For  Luxemburg  in  general,  see  Miss  Ruth  Putnam, 
Luxemburg  and  her  Neighbors,  with  bibliography  (second  edition, 
New  York,  1920).  The  question  of  the  Scheldt  is  summarized  by 
A.  Rotsaert,  L’Escaut  depuis  le  traite  de  Munster  (Brussels  and 
Paris,  1918);  numerous  documents  in  Guillaume,  L'Escaut  depuis 
1830  (Brussels,  1903).  For  a  Dutch  view,  see  Den  Beer  Poortugael, 
La  neutrality  sur  I'Escaut  (The  Hague,  191 1).  For  this  question  at 
Paris,  cf.  Cammaerts  and  Geyl  in  The  New  Europe ,  July  31  anL* 
August  14,  1919.  On  Belgian  neutrality  and  the  treaties  of  1839, 
see  F.  L.  Warrin,  Jr.,  The  Neutrality  of  Belgium  (Washington,  1918). 

The  history  of  Belgium’s  frontiers  can  be  traced  in  the  following 
historical  atlases:  L.  van  der  Essen,  Atlas  de  geographic  historique 
de  la  Belgique  (Brussels  and  Paris,  1919-),  notably  Map  10 
(1786)  by  F.  L.  Ganshof;  Geschiedkundige  Atlas  van  Nederland 
(The  Hague,  1912);  Geschichtlicher  Atlas  der  Rheinprovinz  (Bonn, 
1898-),  especially  the  maps  of  1789. 


■ 


Ill 

ALSACE-LORRAINE 


/ 


The  fate  of  Alsace-Lorraine  was,  in  general,  a 
problem  of  the  war  rather  than  of  the  Peace  Con¬ 
ference.  Nothing  had  done  more,  in  President 
Wilson’s  phrase,  “to  unsettle  the  peace  of  the 
world  for  nearly  fifty  years”;  nothing  was  more 
earnestly  discussed  throughout  the  World  War; 
nothing  was  settled  more  simply  and  quickly  once 
the  war  was  over.  The  completeness  of  the 
Allied  victory  and  the  immediate  evacuation  of 
Alsace-Lorraine  required  by  the  terms  of  the 
armistice  left  no  doubt  of  the  return  of  the  lost 
provinces  to  France.  The  Peace  Conference  had 
only  to  determine  certain  necessary  details.  “The 
territories  which  were  ceded  to  Germany  in 
accordance  with  the  Preliminaries  of  Peace  signed 
at  Versailles  on  February  26,  1871,  and  the  Treaty 
of  Frankfort  of  May  10,  1871,  are  restored  to 
French  sovereignty  as  from  the  date  of  the  Armi¬ 
stice  of  November  n,  1918.”  So  runs  Article  51 
of  the  treaty  of  Versailles,  and  the  rest  follows 
from  that. 

Nevertheless,  no  account  of  the  territorial 
problems  of  the  Peace  Conference  would  be 
complete  which  did  not  treat  the  question  of 
Alsace-Lorraine  and  its  background,  and  treat  it 
with  sufficient  fulness  to  give  the  proper  perspec¬ 
tive  to  this  major  issue  of  the  war.  Moreover, 


75 


76  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

Alsace-Lorraine  is  the  necessary  basis  for  any 
consideration  of  the  whole  matter  of  the  Franco- 
German  frontier,  with  its  specific  issues  of  the 
Rhine,  the  Left  Bank,  and  the  Saar  valley.  Let 
us  begin  with  a  minimum  of  history  and  de¬ 
scription,  followed  by  a  fuller  analysis  of  the  recent 
aspects  of  the  problem. 

Alsace-Lorraine  (German  Elsass-Lothringen) 
was  an  imperial  territory  ( Reichsland )  of  the 
German  empire  formed  in  1871  by  the  union  of 
the  two  districts  then  taken  from  France.  It  had 
an  area  of  5600  square  miles  (Connecticut  and 
Rhode  Island  6000)  and  a  population  in  1910  of 
1,874,000  (Connecticut  and  Rhode  Island  1,657,- 
000).  On  the  east  the  Rhine  separates  it  from 
the  grand  duchy  of  Baden;  on  the  south  it  touches 
the  Swiss  frontier;  on  the  north  it  was  bounded 
by  the  Palatinate,  Prussia,  and  the  grand  duchy  of 
Luxemburg.  The  French  frontier  on  the  west 
was  formed  in  the  south  by  the  summit  of  the 
Vosges  and  farther  north  by  an  artificial  line  of 
demarcation  drawn  in  1871. 

Geographically  considered,  Alsace  consists  of 
the  eastern  slopes  of  the  Vosges  and  the  rich  plain 
of  the  valley  of  the  Rhine  and  its  tributary  the  Ill, 
Lorraine  of  a  plateau  cut  in  the  west  by  the  Moselle. 
Alsace  is  a  rich  agricultural  region,  producing 
grain,  potatoes,  hay,  tobacco,  and  wine;  it  has 
also  important  manufactures  in  its  towns,  cottons 
being  a  specialty  of  Mulhouse  and  other  towns  of 
Upper  Alsace.  Lorraine  is  less  productive  in 


ALSACE-LORRAINE 


77 


agriculture  but  richer  in  mineral  resources  and  the 
furnaces  and  iron  mills  which  these  support. 
Alsace  has  important  oil  wells  at  Pechelbronn, 
and  one  of  the  richest  potash  deposits  in  the  world 
at  Wittelsheim.  Lorraine  has  important  salt 
mines,  and  valuable  coal  fields  lie  on  its  border  in 
the  valley  of  the  Saar;  and  on  its  western  edge  it 
shared  with  France  the  ‘minette’  iron  field,  the 
greatest  iron  deposit  in  Europe,  from  the  German 
portion  of  which  before  the  war  came  74  per  cent 
of  all  the  iron  mined  in  the  German  empire. 

The  people  of  Alsace  and  eastern  Lorraine  are 
preponderantly  German-speaking;  those  of  west¬ 
ern  Lorraine  speak  French.  French  is  also  much 
spoken  in  the  towns  of  Alsace.  j6  per  cent  of  the 
whole  population  is  Catholic,  22  per  cent  Protestant. 

Alsace-Lorraine  as  a  single  political  division 
was  a  creation  of  the  German  government  in  1871; 
the  two  districts  have  different  origins  and  a 
different  history,  indeed  each  of  them  is  made  up 
of  parts  with  histories  still  further  separate  and 
distinct.  All  have  in  common  the  fact  that  they 
form  part  of  a  region  which  since  the  ninth  cen¬ 
tury  has  been  debated  ground  between  Germany 
and  France.  In  the  sixteenth,  seventeenth,  and 
eighteenth  centuries  the  territory  which  now  forms 
Alsace  and  Lorraine  was  acquired  bit  by  bit  by 
France;  in  1871  it  was  transferred  in  one  lump  to 
the  new  German  empire. 

In  the  later  Middle  Ages  Lorraine  formed  a 
duchy,  within  which  lay  a  number  of  small  and  in 


78 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

some  cases  independent  feudal  states  and  the  city 
of  Metz,  a  free  city  of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire 
whose  people  spoke  French.  In  I552?  on  the  peti¬ 
tion  of  certain  German  Protestant  princes,  Metz 
was  placed  under  the  protection  of  the  king  of 
France,  who  took  possession  of  the  city  and  the 
surrounding  territory  subject  to  it.  In  1613  the 
bishopric  of  Metz  and  its  lands  were  taken  over  by 
the  French  king,  the  whole  being  combined  with 
Toul  and  Verdun  into  the  province  of  the  Three 
Bishoprics  (Trois  Eveches),  and  the  cession  was 
confirmed  by  the  Emperor  in  the  treaty  of  West¬ 
phalia  of  1648.  Further  acquisitions  made  in 
the  seventeenth  century,  notably  Sierck  and 
Saarlouis,  gave  France  a  strategic  line  of  com¬ 
munication  through  Lorraine  to  Alsace.  The 
duchy  of  Lorraine,  which  had  likewise  been  depend¬ 
ent  on  the  Holy  Roman  Empire,  was  declared  free 
by  Emperor  Charles  V  and  was  gradually  drawn 
into  the  French  sphere  of  influence.  Relinquished 
by  its  Hapsburg  duke  in  1736,  in  1738  by  the 
treaty  of  Vienna  it  was  handed  over  to  a  Polish 
duke,  Stanislas  Leszcynski,  on  condition  that  at 
his  death  it  should  pass  to  his  son-in-law,  Louis 
XV  of  France,  by  whom  it  was  accordingly  ac¬ 
quired  in  1766.  Certain  small  enclaves  within 
Lorraine  did  not  pass  to  France  until  the  Revo¬ 
lution. 

Alsace,  except  the  city  of  Mulhouse,  was  annexed 
to  France  in  the  course  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV. 
The  Middle  Ages  had  broken  the  country  up  into 


ALSACE-LORRAINE 


79 


a  great  variety  of  feudal  states  and  free  cities; 
the  Reformation  divided  it  still  further  by  religious 
dissensions.  In  the  Thirty  Years’  War  France 
intervened  on  the  side  of  the  Protestant  princes  of 
Germany;  at  its  close  France  received  considerable 
possessions  in  Alsace,  in  much  the  same  way  that 
Brandenburg  (the  future  Prussia)  then  secured 
valuable  additions  in  the  north.  The  treaty  ot 
Westphalia  (1648)  assured  to  France  certain  lands 
and  certain  governmental  rights  possessed  by  the 
Emperor  in  his  imperial  capacity  and  as  head  of 
the  house  of  Hapsburg,  but  the  provisions  were, 
possibly  with  intention,  left  vague  at  certain 
points  and  became  the  occasion  of  protracted  legal 
and  historical  disputes.  By  a  combination  of 
undoubted  grants,  more  or  less  justified  legal  inter¬ 
pretations,  and  the  direct  seizure  of  the  city  ot 
Strasburg,  Louis  XIV  rounded  out  his  possession 
of  the  whole  of  Alsace.  The  sole  exception,  Mul- 
house,  allied  with  the  Swiss  Confederation,  volun¬ 
tarily  offered  itself  to  France  in  1798. 

Thus  united  to  France,  Alsace  and  Lorraine 
retained  their  boundaries  until  the  treaty  of  Vienna. 
The  general  principle  of  the  territorial  adjustments 
of  1814  was  to  leave  to  France  its  frontiers  of  1792; 
after  Napoleon’s  return  and  defeat  at  Waterloo  the 
treaty  of  1815  was  supposed  to  reduce  these  to 
the  limits  of  1789.  In  Alsace  and  Lorraine  two 
deviations  were  made  from  this  principle,  both  to 
the  disadvantage  of  France.  At  the  northern  end 
of  Alsace  France  lost  to  Bavaria  the  territory 


8o 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


between  the  Lauter  and  the  Queich,  including  the 
fortress  of  Landau  which  she  had  possessed  in 
1789.  On  the  northern  border  of  Lorraine  the 
frontier  was  readjusted  to  the  advantage  of  Prus¬ 
sia,  partly  for  strategic  reasons,  in  connection 
particularly  with  the  fortress  of  Saarlouis,  partly 
in  order  to  take  away  from  France  the  valuable 
coal  deposits  of  the  Saar  valley. 

At  the  close  of  the  Franco-Prussian  war  Ger¬ 
many  required  of  France  the  cession  of  Alsace  and 
Lorraine,  with  a  boundary  on  the  west  which  was 
defined  by  the  treaty  of  Frankfort  in  1871. 

In  the  next  forty  years  Alsace-Lorraine  passed 
through  various  stages  of  government,  from  mili¬ 
tary  dictatorship  through  a  certain  amount  of 
territorial  independence  to  the  definite  constitu¬ 
tion  imposed  by  the  Reichstag  in  1911.  Those 
who  had  hoped  for  autonomy  were  disappointed 
in  this  instrument,  which  failed  to  elevate  the 
Reichsland  to  the  position  of  a  federated  state  of 
the  empire,  although  an  anomalous  provision  was 
made  for  its  representation  in  the  Bundesrat. 
Legally  Alsace-Lorraine  was  still  a  subject  territory 
of  the  empire. 

Under  the  constitution  of  1911  the  emperor  pos¬ 
sessed  supreme  executive  authority,  exercised 
chiefly  through  a  governor  (Statthalter)  appointed 
and  recalled  by  the  emperor  and  resident  in 
Strasburg.  Legislative  power  was  entrusted  to 
a  bicameral  Diet  (Landtag).  The  upper  house 
(First  Chamber)  consisted  of  forty-six  members, 


ALSACE-LORRAINE 


81 


half  of  them  named  directly  by  the  emperor,  the 
others  made  up  of  certain  ecclesiastical  dignitaries, 
the  president  of  the  Superior  Court,  and  represen¬ 
tatives  of  cities  and  economic  interests,  so  that  the 
majority  was  under  the  emperor’s  control.  The 
sixty  members  of  the  lower  house  (Second  Cham¬ 
ber)  were  elected  by  universal  male  suffrage.  The 
emperor  possessed  the  right  of  veto  over  the  legis¬ 
lative  acts  of  the  Landtag;  he  could  levy  taxes  if 
it  refused  to  pass  the  budget;  and  he  could  pro¬ 
rogue  it  and  issue  decrees  with  the  force  of  law 
during  its  recess.  Independent  in  local  matters 
of  the  Reichstag,  the  Reichsland  was  far  from 
independent  of  the  emperor. 

In  imperial  matters  Alsace-Lorraine  had  three 
representatives  in  the  Bundesrat,  appointed  by  the 
Statthalter  and  thus  ultimately  by  the  emperor; 
but  “  their  votes  were  counted  only  when  it  made 
no  difference  how  they  were  cast.” 1  Alsace- 
Lorraine  had  sent  representatives  to  the  Reichs¬ 
tag  since  1874;  these  numbered  fifteen,  elected 
by  all  male  citizens  over  the  age  of  twenty-five. 

For  local  government  Alsace-Lorraine  consisted 
of  the  three  districts  (Bezirke)  of  Upper  Alsace 
(capital  Colmar),  Lower  Alsace  (capital  Stras- 
burg),  and  Lorraine  (capital  Metz).  Each  of 
these  fell  into  circles  (Kreise),  cantons,  and 
communes  (Gemeinden).  The  presidents  of  the 
districts  and  the  directors  of  the  circles  were  named 
by  the  emperor,  as  were  also  the  directors  of  police. 

1  Laband,  Deutsches  Reichsstaatsrecht  (Tubingen,  1912),  p.  190. 


82 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


The  organization  of  the  local  bodies  and  the  dis¬ 
tribution  of  their  functions  were  similar  to  the 
system  prevailing  in  Prussia. 

The  internal  history  of  this  half-century  of  Ger¬ 
man  rule  is  a  most  interesting  chapter,  which  we 
must  pass  over  in  order  to  gain  time  for  an  analysis 
of  the  question  about  which  that  history  revolved. 
Taken  as  a  whole,  the  period  must  be  regarded  as 
an  unsuccessful  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  rulers 
to  assimilate  by  force  an  unwilling  population. 
The  German  government  had  great  resources  on 
its  side  —  compulsory  education  on  the  German 
model  and  in  the  German  tongue,  the  repressive 
measures  of  the  greatest  army  and  the  strongest 
administrative  system  in  Europe,  the  influx  of 
immigrants  from  beyond  the  Rhine,  the  develop¬ 
ment  of  communication  with  the  other  parts  of 
the  empire,  an  extraordinary  material  prosperity 
in  which  the  Reichsland  shared.  Its  policy  alter¬ 
nated  between  harsh  repression  and  clumsy  efforts 
to  win  the  people’s  good  will.  There  were  periods 
when  it  seemed  to  be  making  headway,  by  the 
mere  lapse  of  time  and  the  apparent  hopelessness 
of  resistance,  if  by  nothing  else;  the  argument  from 
prosperity  had  its  effects;  the  protesting  leaders 
turned  toward  more  immediate  measures  of  amelio¬ 
ration  within  the  empire.  Then  an  episode  like 
the  Zabern  affair  of  1913  would  occur  to  show  that 
the  country  was  still  governed  by  military  force, 
and  the  pro-French  feeling  would  blaze  out  again. 

The  relative  strength  of  the  French  and  German 


ALSACE-LORRAINE  83 

parties  was  a  subject  of  acrimonious  and  incon¬ 
clusive  debate.  The  fact  remained  that  there  was 
a  large  French  party,  just  how  large  nobody  knew, 
which  maintained  a  vigorous  tradition  of  French 
speech  and  sympathies,  by  the  fireside,  among  the 
clergy,  in  intercourse  with  France  itself.  Its 
existence  was  shown  in  the  midst  of  the  war  by  a 
project  brought  before  the  Reichstag  for  colonizing 
Alsace-Lorraine  with  ‘reliable’  subjects.  The  sur¬ 
vival  of  this  French  party  through  fifty  years  of 
persecution  is  one  of  the  finest  public  examples  of 
the  triumph  of  the  inner  over  the  outer  life.  A 
peasant  who  was  waving  an  old  French  flag  at 
Strasburg  at  the  great  reception  to  the  French 
troops  in  November  1918  was  asked  how  he  had 
obtained  it.  “My  father,”  he  said,  “in  1871  put 
this  under  a  plank  of  his  barn,  and  every  Sunday 
of  his  life  he  knelt  over  it  in  prayer  for  the  return 
of  Alsace  to  France.  When  he  died,  he  handed 
on  the  charge  to  me  to  keep  until  that  day  should 
come.”  The  two  elements  in  the  population  are 
well  illustrated  at  Metz,  where  a  German-speaking 
majority  of  soldiers,  officials,  and  tradesmen  came 
in,  and  a  new  quarter  sprang  up  about  the  rail¬ 
road  station  in  the  latest  and  heaviest  style  of  neo- 
German  architecture,  but  the  old  French  town 
still  remained,  with  its  narrow  streets,  its  mediaeval 
gates  (especially  that  great  eastern  portal  called 
the  ‘German  Gate’),  its  hotel  de  ville,  and  its 
Gothic  cathedral.  And  the  three  ages  of  Metz 
may  be  typified  by  this  French  cathedral  of  the 


84  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

thirteenth  century,  with  the  statue  of  William  II 
as  a  prophet  filling  a  niche  in  one  of  its  portals,  and 
the  final  inscription  below  this  figure,  attached  by 
handcuffs  after  the  armistice,  “Sic  transit  gloria 
mundi!” 

For  more  than  half  a  century  the  problem  of 
Alsace-Lorraine  has  been  debated  back  and  forth 
with  arguments  which  have  had  no  effect  on  the 
opposite  sides  of  the  controversy. 

To  Germans  the  Reichsland  is  a  German  coun¬ 
try,  save  for  the  French-speaking  strip  along  the 
western  border.  It  was  occupied  by  German 
tribes  in  the  fifth  century;  its  speech  is  German; 
it  was  a  portion  of  the  mediaeval  Empire  until 
violently  torn  away  in  the  seventeenth  century; 
in  1871  Germany  was  simply  reclaiming  her  lost 
provinces.  Furthermore,  as  stated  in  1871,  Metz 
and  the  Vosges  were  a  necessary  defence  of  the 
Fatherland  against  French  aggression,  which  had 
been  experienced  under  the  two  Napoleons  and 
might  be  expected  again.  Finally,  as  stated  now 
but  not  openly  in  1871,  the  iron  of  Lorraine  was 
absolutely  necessary  to  the  economic  life  of  modern 
Germany.  Germany  held  Alsace-Lorraine  by  right 
of  nationality  and  by  right  of  conquest,  the  symbol 
of  her  national  unity  achieved  in  the  war  by  which 
it  was  recovered;  it  was  a  part  of  Germany,  not 
an  international  question,  and  she  would  not  give 
it  up  or  discuss  giving  it  up. 

To  the  French  Alsace  and  Lorraine  had  become 


ALSACE-LORRAINE  85 

and  remained  fundamentally  French,  having  been 
assimilated  gradually  and  without  violence  in  the 
eighteenth  century,  French  most  of  all  by  having 
entered  fully  into  the  spirit  of  the  French  Revolu¬ 
tion  and  taken  an  active  part  therein.  They 
begged  to  remain  a  part  of  France  in  1871,  as  the 
unanimous  protests  of  their  representatives  show, 
and  they  continued  French  at  heart  against  the 
strongest  pressure  in  the  opposite  direction.  In 
spite  of  differences  of  language,  such  as  exist  in 
other  parts  of  France,  Alsace  and  Lorraine  were 
French  in  social  structure,  in  political  ideals,  and 
in  the  sympathies  of  the  population.  Without 
these  lost  provinces  France  was  a  mutilated  coun¬ 
try,  not  fully  France.  Furthermore,  the  posses¬ 
sion  of  Metz  and  the  Vosges  by  a  military  power 
like  Germany  constituted  a  standing  menace  to  a 
peaceful  country  like  the  French  Republic;  it 
also  menaced  the  economic  life  of  France  and  its 
defence  by  making  possible,  as  in  1914,  immediate 
seizure  of  the  richest  part  of  its  iron  supply. 
France  was  robbed  of  these  provinces  by  force  in 
1871,  and  the  wrong  had  to  be  righted,  not  only  in 
the  interest  of  France  but  for  the  sake  of  the 
inhabitants. 

There  was  a  growing  disposition  to  recognize 
that  the  problem  of  Alsace-Lorraine  concerned 
not  merely  France  and  Germany  and  the  inhabi¬ 
tants  of  the  territory  itself,  but  the  world  at  large. 
The  settlement  of  this  question  became  of  inter¬ 
national  moment  partly  as  it  affected  the  military 


86 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


and  economic  balance  of  power  between  France 
on  the  one  hand  and  a  Germany  dangerous  to  inter¬ 
national  peace  on  the  other;  partly  as  a  vindica¬ 
tion  of  international  right,  violated  by  the  forcible 
annexation  of  the  two  provinces  in  1871  in  defiance 
of  the  express  protests  of  the  population;  partly 
in  order  to  eliminate,  in  the  interests  of  permanent 
international  order,  an  issue  which  had  “unsettled 
the  peace  of  the  world  for  nearly  fifty  years.” 
Whatever  the  solution,  international  interests  had 
to  be  guarded. 

Of  the  arguments  which  have  been  brought  for¬ 
ward  in  support  of  the  respective  points  of  view, 
that  of  race  is  the  least  significant.  It  is  true  that 
most  German  writers  have  urged  that  the  people 
of  Alsace-Lorraine  are  of  Germanic  race,  akin  to  the 
other  peoples  of  the  German  empire;  but  this  view 
lacks  support  from  the  anthropologist.  Neither 
the  tall,  fair-haired  Teuton  nor  the  short,  round- 
headed  Alpine  type  dominates  Alsace-Lorraine. 
The  population  is  clearly  mixed,  with  racial  affini¬ 
ties  reaching  in  both  directions  and  resulting  from 
the  survival  of  an  original  Gallo-Roman  sub¬ 
stratum  in  the  uplands  along  with  a  considerable 
infiltration  of  Teutonic  invaders  in  the  valleys. 
Whatever  the  exact  percentage  of  the  two  races  in 
Alsace-Lorraine,  the  fact  has  no  demonstrable 
historical  or  political  importance.  Both  Germany 
and  France  are,  racially  considered,  strongly  mixed 
peoples,  all  three  races  being  well  represented  in 
France,  and  the  non-Teutonic  type  in  Germany 
being  marked  in  the  southwest  and  also  in  the 


ALSACE-LORRAINE 


87 

Slavic  regions  of  the  east.  To  argue  from  race  on 
either  side  proves  either  too  much  or  too  little  — 
too  much,  if  all  people  of  Teutonic  type  (as  in 
England,  Scandinavia,  and  northern  France)  are 
claimed  for  the  German  empire;  too  little,  if  either 
Germany  or  France  were  to  be  limited  to  the 
regions  where  the  Teutonic  or  the  Alpine  type 
respectively  predominates. 

The  question  of  language  is  more  difficult.  It 
is  the  German  view  that  Alsace  and  Lorraine  (at 
least  that  larger  part  of  Lorraine  which  speaks 
German),  as  German-speaking  countries,  ought  to 
belong  to  Germany.  The  French  point  out  that 
this  theory  breaks  down  in  principle  in  the  French- 
speaking  districts  of  Lorraine;  they  emphasize  the 
importance  of  the  French-speaking  minority  in 
Alsace  as  a  leading  force  and  the  strong  pro-French 
feeling  in  a  large  part  of  the  German-speaking 
population;  and  they  deny  that  language  is  the 
proper  test  of  political  allegiance. 

By  a  curious  paradox,  language  is  one  of  the 
most  changeable  and  one  of  the  most  permanent 
facts  in  European  history.  It  is  changeable  in  that 
it  can  be  quickly  learned  or  unlearned,  especially 
from  one  generation  to  another,  as  is  convincingly 
illustrated  by  European  immigrants  to  the  United 
States.  It  is  permanent  in  that  the  line  of  de¬ 
marcation  in  the  open  country  shows  surprisingly 
little  variation  over  a  period  of  several  centuries. 
Hence  it  is  highly  important  to  distinguish  condi¬ 
tions  in  the  towns  and  among  the  more  conserva¬ 
tive  peasant  population. 


88 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


As  regards  the  open  country,  the  linguistic 
frontier  between  French  and  German  shows  very 
slight  changes  since  the  Middle  Ages,  when  it  was 
fixed  in  each  region  by  the  relative  preponderance 
of  the  Latin-speaking  Gauls  or  of  the  Teutonic 
invaders.  Slight  advances  of  German  in  the 
Middle  Ages  and  of  French  since  the  sixteenth 
century  are  traceable  at  certain  points,  but  are 
relatively  unimportant.  The  present  line  of  divi¬ 
sion  has  never  been  absolutely  determined,  but  a 
local  study  was  made  by  C.  This  in  1886  and 
1887  on  the  basis  of  personal  examination,  and  his 
results  have  been  generally  accepted  by  both 
French  and  German  scholars.  The  line  follows 
the  political  frontier,  here  the  crest  of  the  Vosges, 
only  for  about  sixty  miles  in  Upper  Alsace.  In 
the  south  it  includes  two  districts  to  the  east, 
Eteimbes  and  Montreux,  while  it  dips  still  farther 
to  the  east  in  the  upper  valleys  of  the  Weiss  and 
the  Breusch  and  the  middle  valley  of  the  Liepvrette, 
all  of  these  districts  speaking  French.  In  Lorraine 
the  linguistic  frontier  lies  well  to  the  east  of  the 
political  boundary,  running  in  a  zigzag  fashion 
from  Mount  Donon  to  the  northwest  across  the 
open  country  through  or  near  Sarrebourg  and 
southwest  of  Thionville  to  the  Luxemburg  bound¬ 
ary.  About  6  per  cent  of  the  area  of  Alsace  and 
about  46  per  cent  of  the  area  of  Lorraine  thus 
contain  a  French-speaking  majority. 

It  must  not,  however,  be  supposed  that  the 
cleavage  is  adequately  described  by  any  such  line. 
In  towns  the  influence  of  commerce,  education, 


ALSACE-LORRAINE  89 

government,  et  cetera,  often  forms  a  considerable 
class  whose  speech  differs  from  that  of  the  sur¬ 
rounding  country.  In  the  long  period  of  French 
occupation  a  French-speaking  class  was  in  this 
way  created  in  Strasburg,  Colmar,  Mulhouse 
(notably),  and  many  other  towns  of  Alsace. 
After  1871  the  large  immigration  of  soldiers  and 
officials  to  Metz  made  it  appear  as  a  German 
town  in  the  official  statistics  (78  per  cent  German¬ 
speaking  in  1910).  The  German  majority  in 
Metz  has  disappeared  automatically  with  the 
withdrawal  of  the  German  garrison  and  civil 
government,  but  the  French-speaking  element  in 
Alsace  showed  extraordinary  persistence  and  vital¬ 
ity  in  the  face  of  every  measure  of  repression.  In 
spite  of  the  compulsory  study  of  German  in  all 
schools  and  the  official  support  of  their  language 
by  all  the  agencies  of  the  government,  the  official 
German  returns  show  no  significant  diminution 
in  the  percentage  of  the  French-speaking  popula¬ 
tion  since  exact  statistics  have  been  kept: 


Lower  Alsace 

/ goo 

1905 

igio 

German 

95-77 

95-77 

95.80 

French 

3.72 

3.61 

3.80 

Upper  Alsace 

German 

93.31 

93-42 

93.00 

French 

5-59 

5.66 

6.10 

Lorraine 

German 

70.59 

71.30 

73-50 

French 

25.87 

23.78 

22.30 

Alsace-Lorraine 

German 

86.79 

86.80 

87.20 

French 

11.60 

11.03 

10.90 

9o  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

No  map  of  the  distribution  of  language,  however 
exact,  would  tell  the  whole  story.  Community 
of  language  is  undoubtedly  an  important  influence 
in  producing  that  ‘consciousness  of  kind’  upon 
which  nationality  rests,  and  in  facilitating  the 
common  life  of  the  modern  state.  We  prefer  our 
neighbors  to  speak  our  language,  however  in¬ 
different  we  may  be  respecting  the  shape  of  their 
skulls.  Community  of  language  is  not,  however, 
a  necessary  basis  for  a  sound  national  life,  as 
appears  in  such  countries  as  Belgium  and  Switzer¬ 
land.  The  distinction  must  also  be  noted  between 
the  local  patois  and  the  general  national  language 
taught  in  schools,  for  in  many  European  countries 
these  are  quite  different.  Thus  in  Italy  a  north- 
Italian  cannot  understand  a  Sicilian  speaking  the 
local  dialect,  and  there  are  also  regions  where 
French  and  German  are  spoken.  In  Germany 
there  are  marked  differences  between  the  official 
High  German  and  the  Low  German  dialects,  not 
to  mention  the  languages  of  the  subject  popula¬ 
tions.  In  France  languages  quite  distinct  from 
French  exist  in  Brittany,  Provence,  the  Basque 
region,  and  the  Flemish  territory  around  Dunkirk, 
without  weakening  French  nationality  or  destroy¬ 
ing  French  unity. 

In  the  case  of  Alsace-Lorraine,  it  is  of  fundamen¬ 
tal  importance  to  recognize  that  sympathy  for 
France  or  Germany  did  not  follow  linguistic  lines. 
While  few  of  the  French-speaking  population  were 
attracted  to  Germany,  there  was  a  very  consider- 


ALSACE-LORRAINE 


91 


able  element  among  the  German-speaking  popu¬ 
lation  which  favored  France.  Even  German 
observers  found  French  sympathies  far  more 
widespread  than  the  French  language.  It  is  a 
well  known  fact  that  the  anti-German  movements 
of  recent  years  have  been  more  pronounced  in 
Alsace,  especially  Upper  Alsace,  than  in  Lorraine 
with  its  larger  French-speaking  population. 

Moreover,  language,  like  race,  is  a  two-edged 
sword  for  Germany.  If  Alsace  ought  to  be  part  of 
the  empire  because  it  speaks  chiefly  German,  so 
ought  the  German-speaking  portions  of  Austria 
and  Switzerland.  And  if  France  ought  to  have 
given  up  hope  of  Alsace  because  of  its  German¬ 
speaking  population,  Germany  should  make  no 
complaint  over  the  parallel  renunciation  of  Prus¬ 
sian  Poland  or  Upper  Silesia.  Germany  cannot 
ask  to  apply  the  principle  in  the  west  and  reject 
it  in  the  east. 

As  a  matter  of  history,  the  linguistic  frontier 
between  French  and  German  has  rarely  coincided 
with  the  political  frontier.  The  national  lines,  so 
far  as  national  lines  have  been  drawn,  have  been 
drawn  by  other  forces.  Language  is  an  important 
element  in  national  life,  but  it  is  not  the  only  ele¬ 
ment,  and  in  Alsace-Lorraine  it  has  been  subordi¬ 
nated  to  other  considerations.  Alsace,  in  spite 
of  its  German  speech,  was  reasonably  contented 
under  French  rule.  It  never  became  fully  recon¬ 
ciled  to  German  rule,  in  spite  of  a  large  measure  of 
community  of  language.  The  causes  for  its  aspi- 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


92 

rations  and  sympathies  lie  deeper  than  dialect. 
Although  surer  and  clearer  than  race,  language 
proved  an  illusory  and  insufficient  basis  for  solving 
the  problem  of  Alsace-Lorraine. 

When  we  come  to  the  historical  tradition  and 
affinities  of  the  district,  we  find  that  German 
writers  urge  the  long  membership  of  Alsace  and 
Lorraine  in  the  mediaeval  Empire  down  to  1648, 
the  place  of  Alsace  in  the  history  of  German  litera¬ 
ture,  and  its  affinities  with  the  German  culture  of 
the  valley  of  the  Rhine.  The  French  bring  out 
certain  connections  of  Alsace  and  Lorraine  with 
France  before  Louis  XIV,  but  they  urge  especially 
the  transformation  of  these  provinces  during  the 
French  Revolution  into  a  people  profoundly 
imbued  with  the  French  conceptions  of  liberty  and 
democracy,  in  contradistinction  to  the  political 
and  social  traditions  and  organization  of  Germany. 

Arguments  of  this  sort  are  by  their  nature  less 
specific  and  tangible  than  those  based  upon  the 
concrete  facts  of  language  and  race,  and  judgments 
in  relation  to  them  are  likely  to  be  subjective.  At 
certain  points,  however,  they  admit  of  objective 
analysis,  particularly  as  regards  political  affilia¬ 
tions. 

There  is,  in  the  first  place,  no  question  that  both 
Alsace  and  Lorraine  formed  part  of  the  mediaeval 
Empire  from  the  tenth  century  on.  It  is  also 
equally  clear  that  the  Empire  of  the  Middle  Ages 
was  in  no  way  comparable  to  the  national  states  of 
't  modern  Europe,  but  was  a  loose  union  of  tribal 


ALSACE-LORRAINE 


93 


duchies  which  were  later  dissolved  into  a  mass 
of  petty  feudal  states  and  free  cities.  The  Em¬ 
perors  never  succeeded  in  establishing  a  strong 
monarchy  or  real  national  unity,  being,  by  virtue 
of  their  imperial  title,  often  more  interested  in 
asserting  a  shadowy  supremacy  over  Italy  and  the 
valley  of  the  Rhone.  In  the  broader  sense  the 
Empire  covered  at  one  time  or  another  a  consider¬ 
able  part  of  Europe,  as,  for  example,  central  and 
northern  Italy  and  eastern  France;  in  the  narrower 
sense  the  German  kingdom  comprised  under  its 
loose  and  ineffective  sway  the  territory  of  modern 
Holland,  eastern  Belgium,  a  good  part  of  Switzer¬ 
land,  Austria,  Bohemia,  et  cetera.  As  time  went 
on,  the  principalities  and  towns  became  more 
rather  than  less  independent,  until  the  treaty  of 
Westphalia  (1648)  recognized  the  territorial  sov¬ 
ereignty  of  such  princes  as  had  not  already  estab¬ 
lished  it.  Membership  in  so  large  and  unconsoli¬ 
dated  a  body  would  not  establish  the  German 
character  of  any  particular  member,  else  it  would 
be  necessary  to  incorporate  many  parts  of  Europe 
which  have  long  enjoyed  complete  independence! 
of  Germany. 

Moreover,  it  is  important  to  note  that  the  pres¬ 
ent  German  empire  is  not  a  continuation  of  the 
mediaeval  Empire  or  a  successor  thereto.  The 
old  Empire  came  to  an  end  in  1806,  when  Francis  I 
laid  aside  the  imperial  crown  and  assumed  the 
title  of  emperor  of  Austria.  The  modern  German 
empire  was  created  by  Prussia  in  1871  as  a  federa- 


94 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


tion  of  German  states  from  which  Austria  was  care¬ 
fully  excluded.  If  the  mediaeval  Emperors  had  a 
legitimate  successor,  it  was  the  Hapsburgs,  not 
the  Hohenzollerns,  who  were  in  the  days  of  the 
older  Empire  merely  one  of  many  lines  of  feudal 
and  electoral  princes.  The  Hapsburgs  made  over 
to  France  their  claims  to  Alsace  and  Lorraine,  to 
Alsace  and  Metz  in  1648,  to  the  duchy  of  Lorraine 
in  1738. 

On  the  other  hand  the  cultural  ties  between 
^/Germany  and  Alsace,  and  in  some  measure  be¬ 
tween  Germany  and  Lorraine,  were  stronger  than 
the  political.  Alsace  had  its  share  in  the  literary 
and  artistic  development  of  the  Rhine  valley,  and 
this,  while  affected  by  the  French  influences  which 
spread  eastward  in  the  later  Middle  Ages,  was 
preponderantly  German.  In  the  matter  of  speech 
French  historians  admit  that  “Alsace  at  the  be¬ 
ginning  of  the  seventeenth  century  was  an  abso¬ 
lutely  German  country,”  and  its  local  dialect  was 
the  vehicle  of  its  vigorous  local  traditions.  “At  the 
moment  when  it  passed  under  French  rule  it 


belonged  to  Germany  in  language,  habits,  institu¬ 
tions,  and  feeling.”  1 

The  French  government  from  1648  to  1789 
was  tender  to  the  traditions  of  the  conquered 
territory.  Except  for  the  prescription  of  French 
in  the  courts,  no  restrictions  were  put  on  the  use 
of  the  German  language,  although  French  natu¬ 
rally  made  rapid  progress  in  the  towns.  There 


1  R.  Reuss,  L' Alsace  au  xviie  siecle  (Paris,  1898),  i,  p.  720;  ii,  p.  186. 


ALSACE-LORRAINE 


95 


was  little  change  in  local  institutions.  In  spite  of 
its  centralized  monarchy,  France  itself  abounded 
in  local  customs,  privileges,  and  jurisdictions,  and 
it  was  natural  and  prudent  to  allow  even  greater 
toleration  in  a  newly  conquered  territory.  Subject 
to  the  Sovereign  Council  and  the  intendant,  local 
affairs  went  on  very  much  in  their  old  way  and  in 
large  measure  in  the  German  tongue.  Much  was 
accomplished  for  the  material  wellbeing  of  the 
country,  and  the  inhabitants  came  to  recognize 
certain  advantages  in  French  rule.  The  old  regime 
was  a  period  of  gradual  assimilation  without 
violence. 

The  institutions  which  the  old  regime  tolerated 
in  Alsace,  the  Revolution  swept  away.  German 
historians  naturally  emphasize  the  excesses  and 
violence  of  the  Revolution,  French  historians  its 
social  and  political  reforms;  but  there  is  general 
agreement  that  it  took  long  and  rapid  strides  in 
the  direction  of  making  the  country  French.  “It 
made  an  end  of  all  the  German  mediaeval  institu¬ 
tions  which  remained,”  is  the  sad  summary  of 
Meyer’s  Handlexikon.1  The  Revolution  destroyed 
privilege,  abolished  seigniorial  rights  and  juris¬ 
dictions,  and  established  a  democratic  social  order 
as  fully  in  Alsace  and  Lorraine  as  in  the  rest  of 
France.  There  was  of  course  opposition,  and  the 
anti-religious  policy  of  the  Revolution  was  steadily 
resisted  by  this  strongly  Catholic  population,  but 
in  general  Alsace  and  Lorraine  moved  with  the 

1  Edition  of  1890,  i,  p.  383,  removed  from  later  editions. 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


9  6 

new  movement.  The  Marseillaise  was  first  sung 
at  Strasburg;  Alsatians  served  in  great  numbers 
in  the  armies  which  carried  the  principles  of  1789 
across  Europe;  and  names  like  Kleber  and  Ney 
illustrate  the  share  of  these  provinces  in  the  wars 
of  the  Napoleonic  era.  The  acceptance  of  the 
Revolution  in  Alsace  and  Lorraine  made  them  at 
last  one  with  France.  “It  is  the  Revolution,  not 
Louis  XIV,  which  made  Alsace  French,”  wrote 
Fustel  de  Coulanges  in  1870.  “Since  that  moment 
Alsace  has  followed  all  our  destinies,  it  has  lived 
our  life.  It  has  shared  all  our  thoughts  and 
feelings,  our  victories  and  defeats,  our  glory  and 
our  defects,  all  our  joys  and  all  our  sorrows.”  1 
By  1813,  confess  the  German  historians  of  Alsace, 
“all  feeling  for  Germany  had  been  lost,”  and  “no 
trace  remained  of  the  ancient  community  of  race 
between  the  Alsatians  and  their  German  brothers.”2 

This  participation  in  the  life  and  ideals  of  France 
continued  until  1871.  There  was,  it  is  true,  a 
considerable  feeling  of  particularism  in  Alsace, 
and  to  a  lesser  extent  in  Lorraine,  as  well  as  some 
natural  sympathy  between  the  Protestant  minority 
in  Alsace  and  the  Protestants  beyond  the  Rhine; 
but  there  was  no  movement  for  separation  from 
France  and  no  desire  manifested  therefor.  To¬ 
ward  1870  the  desire  for  the  recovery  of  these 
dost  provinces’  became  more  pronounced  in 
Germany,  and  it  was  fanned  into  flame  as  the  war 

1  Questions  historiques  (Paris,  1893),  p.  509. 

2  Lorenz  and  Scherer,  Geschichte  des  Elsass  (Berlin,  1872),  p.  441. 


ALSACE-LORRAINE 


97 


of  1870  progressed;  but  this  nationalistic  move¬ 
ment  found  little  or  no  response  among  the  Alsa¬ 
tians  whom  it  claimed  as  long-lost  kinsmen.  If 
they  were  still  German  “socially  and  ethically,” 
“politically  and  nationally  they  were  thoroughly 
French.”  They  were  Germans  as  members  of 
the  family,  Frenchmen  as  members  of  the  nation.  1 
The  Germans  freely  admitted  in  1871  that  the 
Alsatians  did  not  yet  desire  reunion  with  Germany, 
but  this  was  laid  to  their  French  education,  and 
time  and  experience  of  the  blessings  of  German  rule 
were  expected  to  work  a  rapid  change  in  their 
desires.  The  state  of  opinion  in  Alsace  at  the 
time  of  the  Franco-Prussian  war  is  excellently 
shown  by  an  outside  observer,  Sir  Robert  Morier, 
then  British  secretary  of  legation  at  Darmstadt, 
whence  he  had  opportunity  to  follow  closely  the 
events  of  the  war  and  the  course  of  German  opin¬ 
ion.  Strongly  pro-German  and  anti-French 
throughout,  he  made  it  his  business  to  inquire 
from  the  best  German  sources  whether  there  was 
any  party  in  Alsace  which  desired  annexation  to 
Germany,  and  the  answer  was  uniformly  in  the 
negative.  Among  others  he  interrogated  the  Grand 
Duke  of  Baden,  who  had  led  an  army  in  Alsace, 
and  “had  given  himself  the  greatest  trouble  to 
ascertain  the  feeling  of  the  population  in  regard 
to  Germany  and.  .  .  .had  come  to  the  conclusion 

1  Quoted  as  the  opinion  of  a  liberal  German  advocate  of  Mainz,  who  had 
“a  perfect  knowledge  of  Alsace,”  in  Memoirs  oj  Sir  Robert  Morier  (London, 
1911),  ii,  p.  184. 


98  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

that  not  only  no  annexationist  party  existed,  but 
that  the  strongest  possible  national  French  feeling 
i  pervaded  the  whole  population.”  1 

The  usual  German  justification  of  the  seizure  of 
Alsace  and  Lorraine  may  be  summed  up  in  the 
words  of  the  historian  Ranke  in  1870,  “We  are 
fighting  Louis  XIV.”  These  provinces  had  been 
taken  from  Germany  in  the  seventeenth  century; 
they  must  now  be  taken  back  by  their  rightful 
owner.  To  many  people  this  is  still  the  essence  of 
the  problem  of  Alsace-Lorraine.  Now  if  the  world 
had  not  moved  in  the  interval  between  Louis  XIV 
and  1871,  there  would  be  little  to  say  in  answer  to 
this  argument.  In  the  seventeenth  century  lands 
and  peoples  were  passed  from  one  sovereign  to 
another  like  pieces  on  a  chessboard,  and  what 
had  been  lost  in  one  game  might  well  be  retaken  in 
the  next.  But  as  regards  this  question  the  world 
had  changed  in  three  important  respects: — 

1.  Germany  had  changed.  The  Germany 
which  lost  these  provinces  to  Louis  XIV  was,  as 
we  have  seen,  a  jumble  of  small  states,  loosely 
united  under  the  ineffective  headship  of  the  Haps- 
burgs.  The  Germany  which  reclaimed  them  was  a 
Hohenzollern  empire  from  which  much  ol  the  old 
empire,  including  the  Hapsburgs,  had  been  sepa¬ 
rated  or  excluded. 

2.  Alsace  and  Lorraine  had  changed.  They 
had  lost  their  German  institutions  and  political 
sympathies  and  had  become  in  all  political  respects 

1  Memoirs  of  Sir  Robert  Morier,  ii,  pp.  185  ff. 


ALSACE-LORRAINE 


99 


French  as  the  result  of  two  centuries  of  member¬ 
ship  in  the  French  state,  and  especially  of  their 
share  in  the  French  Revolution. 

3.  European  public  opinion  had  changed 
through  the  growth  of  nationality,  and  was  coming 
to  regard  peoples  as  entitled  to  determine  their  own 
destiny,  or  at  least  to  be  consulted  regarding  it. 
To  tear  away  people  from  the  country  of  which 
they  formed  a  part  in  order  to  unite  them  with  a 
state  to  which  they  had  belonged  two  centuries 
before  was  becoming  an  anachronism. 

It  is  quite  true,  then,  that  Germany  in  1871  was 
fighting  Louis  XIV,  but  in  the  spirit  of  Louis  XIV 
rather  than  that  of  the  later  nineteenth  century. 
Its  appeal  to  history  was  in  reality  a  denial  of  the 
facts  of  historic  change,  in  that  it  asserted  the  pre¬ 
dominance  of  the  older  historic  tradition  against 
the  newer  and  more  vital  historic  tradition  created 
during  the  union  of  Alsace  and  Lorraine  with 
France.  Only  a  clear  pronouncement  of  the  inhab¬ 
itants  themselves  in  favor  of  such  a  transfer  could 
justify  it  to  the  thinking  of  a  later  age.  Yet  a 
popular  vote  was  neither  permitted  nor  desired, 
by  Germany  in  1871  or  at  any  time  between  1871 
and  1918. 

In  all  such  discussions  of  the  affinities  of  Alsace 
and  Lorraine,  the  outsider  is  struck  with  the  failure 
of  French  and  German  to  meet  each  other’s  argu¬ 
ments.  The  truth  seems  to  be  that  the  disputants 
move  in  different  realms  of  thought  and  feeling. 
To  the  Germans  the  German  character  of  Alsace  is 


IOO 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

accepted  as  self-evident,  so  that  any  connection 
with  France  appears  unnatural  and  contrary  to  all 
national  life.  To  the  French  the  community  of 
political  and  social  ideas  gained  by  long  union  with 
France  seems  the  determining  element,  and  sub¬ 
jection  to  Germany  seems  something  monstrous. 

In  spite  of  all  that  has  been  written  about  the 
supposed  affinities  and  desires  of  the  population  of 
Alsace-Lorraine,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  the 
national  interests  of  Germany  and  France  are 
vitally  concerned  in  its  possession,  not  merely  in 
the  general  sense  of  the  desire  to  keep  or  to  recover 
something  which  has  been  fought  over  as  a  matter 
of  national  honor,  but  in  the  very  definite  respects 
of  military  advantage  and  economic  power.  And 
there  have  been  times  when  these  considerations 
were  put  nakedly  in  the  foreground  as  the  domi¬ 
nant  motives.  Thus  Emperor  William  I  wrote  to 
Empress  Eugenie  October  26,  1870:  “The  required 
cessions  of  territory  have  no  other  purpose  than  to 
set  back  the  point  of  departure  of  the  French 
armies  which  will  come  to  attack  us  in  the  future. 
German  blood,  said  Bismarck,  was  shed  not  for 
the  sake  of  Alsace-Lorraine,  but  for  the  German 
empire,  its  unity,  and  the  protection  of  its  fron¬ 
tiers.” 1  2  Stern  treatment  of  its  people  he  de¬ 
fended  on  the  ground  that  it  was  the  glacis  of  a 
fortress,  to  be  used  for  the  benefit  of  the  Father- 

1  Printed  from  the  original  in  Revue  historique ,  cxxvii,  p.  ii  (1918). 

2  Die  politischen  Reden, x i,  p.  201;  see  also  v,  p.  56;  vi,  pp.  3U32,  167; 
xiii,  p.  347- 


ALSACE-LORRAINE  ioi 

land  behind  it,  irrespective  of  the  desires  of  the 
conquered.1 

The  military  purpose  of  the  annexation  was  also 
evident  from  the  boundaries  of  the  ceded  territory. 
The  frontier  of  the  Vosges,  of  obvious  advantage 
to  Germany  from  a  strategic  point  of  view,  might 
also  be  argued  for  on  other  grounds  as  the  natural 
line  of  demarcation  between  Alsace  and  France  — 
the  watershed  between  two  river  systems,  in  part 
the  boundary  between  French  and  German  speech, 
etc.  No  such  ‘natural’  or  linguistic  argument, 
however,  could  be  urged  for  the  annexation  of 
French  Lorraine.  Here  the  obvious  and  declared 
object  was  the  fortress  of  Metz,  dominating  the 
approaches  to  the  upper  Rhine  by  way  of  the  Saar 
and  to  the  middle  Rhine  by  way  of  the  valley  of 
the  Moselle.  Bismarck,  it  is  generally  understood, 
wished  to  take  only  Alsace  and  feared  the  danger  of 
a  French  population  in  the  west,  but  Moltke  and  the 
military  party  insisted  on  Metz  and  had  their  way. 

Still  another  consideration  had  weight  in  draw¬ 
ing  the  frontiers  of  1871,  namely  the  iron  deposits 
of  Lorraine.  Apart  from  the  potash  of  Upper 
Alsace,  it  so  happens  that  the  great  natural  re¬ 
sources  of  Alsace-Lorraine  lay  on  its  outer  edges, 
in  the  coal  of  the  Saar  valley  and  the  iron  of  the 
Lorraine  border.  The  problems  of  the  Saar  will 
be  discussed  in  the  next  chapter  in  relation  to  the 
frontier  of  1814;  those  of  the  Lorraine  frontier  are 
particularly  instructive  in  connection  with  our 
present  subject. 

1  Die  politischen  Reden,  xiii,  pp.  375,  26,  27;  vii,  p.  4I4. 


102 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

The  iron  which  forms  the  greatest  mineral  re¬ 
source  of  Alsace-Lorraine  is  a  part  of  the  minette 
district,  about  forty  miles  in  length  and  fourteen 
miles  in  breadth,  lying  on  the  borders  of  France 
and  Luxemburg.  The  Franco-German  frontier 
of  1871  divided  this  area  nearly  equally  between 
the  two  countries,  save  for  a  small  strip  on  the 
north  extending  beyond  the  Luxemburg  line. 
Most  of  this  ore  is  strongly  phosphoric  ( minette ), 
and  could  not  be  worked  advantageously  until  the 
invention  in  1878  of  the  Thomas  process  for  de- 
phosphorization.  The  ores  are  not  relatively  rich, 
the  average  iron  content  being  33  to  35  per  cent; 
but  they  are  easily  mined  and  are  sufficiently 
porous  to  be  easily  crushed,  while  a  limestone 
which  fluxes  easily  occurs  either  with  the  ore,  as  at 
Briey,  or  in  the  immediate  neighborhood. 

In  1913  German  Lorraine  produced  20,600,000 
long  tons,  or  three-fourths  of  the  iron  mined  in 
Germany.  French  Lorraine  in  the  same  year 
produced  19,400,000  tons,  or  90  per  cent  of  the 
product  of  France,  of  which  a  considerable  por¬ 
tion  was  exported  to  Germany.  Of  the  world  s 
total  production  of  iron  in  1913,  29  per  cent  came 
from  the  minette  district,  i.  e.,  12  per  cent  from 
German  Lorraine,  12  per  cent  from  French  Lor¬ 
raine  and  5  per  cent  from  Luxemburg.  The  rest 
of  Europe  furnished  24  per  cent.  The  reserves 
have  been  estimated  as  3000  million  tons  for 
French  Lorraine  and  1830  million  tons  for  German 
Lorraine;  more  recent  estimates  make  the  two 
more  nearly  equal,  but  with  the  preponderance 


ALSACE-LORRAINE 


103 


in  favor  of  the  French.  The  whole  constitutes  by 
far  the  richest  iron  supply  in  Europe  and  one  of 
the  three  or  four  greatest  in  the  world. 

This  enormous  development  of  the  minette 
district  was  quite  unforeseen  in  1871,  yet  we  know 
that  even  then  the  Germans  were  not  blind  to  the 
importance  of  its  iron.  The  iron  deposits  of  the 
region  were  carefully  studied  by  German  geologists 
for  their  government,  with  the  result  that  the 
German  territorial  demands  were  shaped  with  the 
purpose  of  including  the  best  of  them  and  were 
further  increased  between  the  preliminaries  of 
Versailles  and  the  final  treaty  of  Frankfort.  Hence 
the  meanderings  of  the  frontier  then  drawn.  It 
was  believed  that  the  main  vein  had  been  secured, 
comprising  the  ores  near  the  surface  which  alone 
appeared  workable  with  profit,  and  that  nothing 
valuable  in  the  deposit  had  been  omitted.  Only 
later  was  it  discovered  that  the  dip  of  the  strata 
toward  Briey  and  Longwy  concealed  an  even 
richer  field  on  the  French  side  which  could  be 
worked  to  a  considerable  depth.  Moreover  the 
German  geologists  of  1871  were  especially  in¬ 
terested  in  the  phosphorus-free  ore  and  could  not 
foresee  the  value  which  the  Thomas  process  would 
give  the  minette.  Lamentations  over  their  short¬ 
sightedness  were  heard  before  the  war,1  and  in 

1  “Unfortunately  the  theory  [that  only  a  zone  of  two  kilometres  was 
workable]  was  held  by  the  German  geologists  who  were  consulted  in  fixing 
the  frontiers  of  the  treaty  of  Frankfort,  and  hence  led  to  the  present  course 
of  the  Franco-German  frontier.”  H.  Schumacher,  Die  westdeutsche  Eisenin- 
dustrie  (Leipzig,  1910),  p.  147;  and  in  Grumbach,  Das  annexionistischc 
Deutschland,  p.  172. 


io4  THE  peace  conference 

August  1914  German  engineers  hastened  to  occupy 
Briey  and  Longwy,  whose  ores  are  valued  not  only 
for  their  content  but  for  mixing  with  the  less 
calcareous  German  ores.  It  was  frequently  de¬ 
clared  in  Germany  that  without  this  occupied 
territory  the  production  of  German  munitions 
would  have  to  cease,  although  this  is  hardly 
justified  by  the  facts  now  available  concerning  the 
actual  use  which  was  made  of  minette  ore  for  this 
purpose. 

Moreover,  it  is  well  to  remember  that  read¬ 
justments  of  the  Lorraine  frontier  at  the  expense 
of  France  were  a  constant  objective  of  the  Ger¬ 
mans  throughout  the  war.  At  times  these  were 
sketched  broadly  as  part  of  a  general  advance  of 
the  German  boundary  along  the  whole  front  from 
Belfort  to  the  mouth  of  the  Somme,  but  more 
frequently  they  are  described  as  “improvements” 
of  the  frontier  in  Lorraine,  with  the  minette  area 
of  French  Lorraine  and  the  great  border  fortresses 
as  the  definite  objectives.  The  acquisition  of 
Briey  and  Longwy  figured  in  all  the  principal 
programs  of  annexation,  especially  those  of  the 
great  economic  interests,  which  went  so  far  as  to 
declare  that  a  war  which  did  not  secure  them  for 
Germany  would  be  a  failure.  The  object  was 
clearly  economic,  or  rather,  in  view  of  the  place 
of  iron  and  steel  in  modern  warfare,  military- 
economic. 

More  specifically  military  was  the  demand  for 
the  great  fortresses  of  this  part  of  the  French  iron- 


ALSACE-LORRAINE 


105 


tier:  Belfort,  commanding  the  ‘Burgundian’  gate 
leading  from  Upper  Alsace  to  the  valleys  of  the 
Doubs  and  Saone,  and  still  left  in  French  hands 
after  its  heroic  resistance  of  1871;  Epinal,  on  the 
Moselle;  Toul,  commanding  the  passage  from  the 
Moselle  to  the  Meuse;  and  Verdun  on  the  Meuse, 
whose  importance  was  made  clear  to  the  world 
in  the  great  operations  of  1916-17.  The  strength 
of  these  positions  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  the 
French  hold  on  them  remained  unshaken  during 
more  than  four  years  of  war.  Their  importance  is 
further  indicated  by  the  German  demand,  made  at 
the  outbreak  of  hostilities,  that  Toul  and  Verdun 
be  handed  over  as  guarantees  of  French  neutrality. 
Such  conditions  of  peace  kept  reappearing,  some¬ 
times  under  the  specious  suggestion  of  a  “slight 
rectification  of  frontier’’  without  indicating  the 
decisive  value  of  a  few  miles  of  territory  in  this 
region. 

The  day  of  such  Pan-German  dreams  is  over. 
They  are  mentioned  merely  to  indicate  the  nature 
of  the  German  war  aims,  and  the  fact  that  Ger¬ 
man  interest  in  Alsace-Lorraine  was  not  dictated 
wholly  by  motives  of  the  language,  race,  or  his¬ 
toric  affinities  of  the  population. 

During  the  war  the  German  attitude  on  Alsace- 
Lorraine  was  to  stand  pat,  while  at  the  same  time 
taking  stronger  measures  for  destroying  the  local 
opposition.  The  Germans  refused,  as  before,  to 
admit  that  there  was  anything  to  discuss,  much 


io6  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


less  anything  to  yield.  Autonomy1,  even,  was  not 
officially  proposed  until  the  last  month  of  the  war, 
in  a  last  effort  to  save  Germany’s  pride  and  iron 
mines.  The  German  peace  terms  sent  to  President 
Wilson  in  December  1916  are  said  to  have  conceded 
to  France  only  the  small  portion  of  Upper  Alsace 
which  had  been  held  by  French  troops  throughout 
the  war.  The  support  of  “the  just  claims  of 
France  respecting  Alsace-Lorraine”  2  which  formed 
part  of  the  terms  proposed  by  the  Austrian  em¬ 
peror  in  1917  was  promptly  disavowed  by  Germany. 
Only  rare  Minority  Socialists  dared  support  the 
idea  of  a  plebiscite. 

All  this  changed  with  the  armistice  and  the 
requirement  of  evacuation  of  the  Reichsland  by 
German  troops  and  officials.  The  whole  of  Ger¬ 
many  became  suddenly  enamored  of  the  virtues  of 
a  plebiscite.  President  Wilson’s  programme  was 
invoked,  on  the  alleged  ground  that  the  wrong  done 
^to  France  in  1871  lay  simply  in  not  calling  for  a 
popular  vote,  and  the  German  government  declared 
itself  ready  to  right  the  wrong  now  by  means  of 
such  a  vote.  The  alternatives  proposed  for  the 
voting  were  union  with  Germany,  union  with 
France,  and  an  independent  state  free  to  form  a 
customs  union  with  either  country.  If  Germany 
could  not  keep  the  Reichsland  itself,  she  might 
perhaps  thus  keep  its  iron  and  its  trade!  To  such 

1  Annexation  to  Prussia  was  even  urged,  as  by  Laband,  in  Deutsche  Revue , 
June  1917,  much  as  by  Treitschke  in  1870  ( Preussische  Jahrbucher,  xxvi, 
pp.  398  ff.). 

2  Facsimile  in  L’ Illustration,  January  3,  192c. 


ALSACE-LORRAINE 


107 


proposals  the  French  turned  a  deaf  ear.  Those 
who  had  opposed  a  plebiscite  before  the  victory 
were  not  likely  to  support  it  now,  and  doubt 
disappeared  before  the  reception  which  Strasburg 
gave  the  French  troops  and  the  President  and  Pre¬ 
mier.  “This  is  the  best  of  plebiscites,”  said  Presi¬ 
dent  Poincare  in  the  midst  of  his  tumultuous  wel¬ 
come  by  the  Alsatians,  and  there  were  few  to  deny 
it.  The  Germans  were  genuinely  surprised  at  the 
warmth  of  the  popular  enthusiasm,  and  began  to 
ask  themselves  why  after  fifty  years  they  had 
failed  to  get  the  sympathy  of  the  people. 

During  the  war  the  idea  of  a  plebiscite  in  Alsace- 
Lorraine  had  been  popular  with  certain  sections  of 
Allied  and  neutral  opinion,  both  as  a  form  of  self- 
determination  and  as  a  means  of  settling  finally  and 
conclusively  this  ancient  dispute.  Such  a  decision 
would  be  democratic,  and  it  would  be  final. 
Against  it  had  been  urged  the  grave  practical  diffi¬ 
culties  which  stood  in  the  way  of  any  free  expres¬ 
sion  of  the  real  opinion  of  the  real  inhabitants, 
particularly  in  view  of  the  emigration  of  about 
half  a  million  since  1871,  the  coming  in  of  some 
hundreds  of  thousands  from  Germany,  and  the 
wholesale  condemnations  and  deportations  during 
the  war.  A  popular  vote  under  these  conditions 
would  have  opened  a  wide  field  to  bribery,  intimi¬ 
dation,  and  influence  of  every  sort,  and  would 
have  engendered  great  bitterness  and  recrimina¬ 
tion.  A  serious  objection  of  principle  was  also 
raised  on  the  part  of  the  French,  who  felt  they 


108  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

would  thus  be  recognizing  Germany’s  legal  right 
in  the  Reichsland.  The  will  of  the  people,  they 
said,  had  been  expressed  by  the  unanimous  declara¬ 
tions  of  their  elected  representatives  in  the  French 
Parliament  in  1871  and  in  the  German  Reichstag 
in  1874,  yet  it  had  been  openly  flouted  by  Germany 
so  long  as  she  had  any  chance  of  retaining  the 
Reichsland  by  other  means.  Germany  could  not 
be  permitted  to  ignore  a  principle  at  one  moment 
and  to  invoke  it  at  another  when  it  might  possibly 
be  manipulated  in  her  favor,  a  system  of  “heads  I 
win,  tails  you  lose.”  Such  a  proceeding  was  plainly 
unfair  to  France,  and  it  also  set  a  bad  example  of 
international  morality  by  leaving  Germany  a 
chance  to  profit  by  her  violation  of  international 
right  in  1871.  Under  the  guise  of  popular  rights 
this  would  really  sanction  an  international  wrong. 
Some  even  maintained  that,  the  treaty  of  Frank¬ 
fort  having  been  torn  up  by  Germany  in  1914, 
Alsace  and  Lorraine  therewith  reverted  to  France, 
ipso  facto  disannexed.  To  accept  a  plebiscite 
as  the  basis  of  restoration  was  to  admit  the  lawful¬ 
ness  of  the  act  of  violence  by  which  they  had  been 
seized. 

These  arguments  were  hard  to  answer  save  on 
the  ground  of  a  strongly  expressed  demand  on  the 
part  of  the  people  of  Alsace-Lorraine,  and,  what¬ 
ever  their  opinion,  no  such  general  demand  was 
forthcoming.  Certainly  Germany  s  record  of  op¬ 
pression  and  failure  as  a  ruler  was  sufficient  to 
forfeit  whatever  claims  she  might  justly  have  had 


ALSACE-LORRAINE 


109 


upon  the  Reichsland,  and  she  had  formally  ac¬ 
cepted  President  Wilson’s  demand  that  “the 
wrong  done  to  France  in  1871  should  be  righted. 
That  wrong  consisted,  not  in  failing  to  hold  a 
plebiscite,  but  in  contemptuously  disregarding 
the  unmistakable  expressions  of  popular  opinion 
then  and  thereafter  expressed. 

French  Socialist  opinion  still  wanted  ajdebisqits*.. 
but  the  purpose  was  plainly  to  satisfy  a  theoretical 
scruple,  which  required  a  popular  vote  for  any 
change  of  sovereignty.  For  good  or  ill,  Alsace- 
Lorraine  came  back  to  France  without  a  popular 
consultation;  it  was  administered  by  France  in 
the  interval  between  the  armistice  and  the  treaty 
of  peace;  and  the  treaty  recognized  French 
sovereignty  as  beginning  with  the  armistice,  No¬ 
vember  11,  1918.  The  deed  of  Frankfort  was  thus 
undone.  A  plebiscite  seemed  impracticable,  un¬ 
less  as  a  mere  matter  of  form,  and  in  that  case 
it  was  unnecessary.  There  was  something  to  be 
said  for  summoning  a  popular  assembly  for  other 
purposes  which  might  easily  have  expressed  the 
opinion  of  the  people,  but  this  again  would  have 
been  chiefly  a  matter  of  form,  to  forestall  future 
objections. 

So  the  fundamental  provisions  of  the  treaty 
which  concern  Alsace-Lorraine  consist  merely  of  a 
preamble  by  which  the  high  contracting  parties, 
Germany  thus  included,  recognize  “the  moral 
obligation  to  redress  the  wrong  done  by  Germany 


I IO 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

in  1871  both  to  the  rights  of  France  and  to  the 
wishes  of  the  population  of  Alsace  and  Lorraine,” 
and  the  article 1  restoring  to  France  the  terri¬ 
tories  ceded  by  the  treaty  of  Frankfort.  The 
other  articles 2  are,  essentially,  consequences  and 
applications  of  this  act  of  restoration.  Some  of 
them  merely  reproduce,  in  the  opposite  sense, 
clauses  of  the  treaty  of  1871.  In  general,  how¬ 
ever,  the  Paris  articles  are  fuller  and  more  com¬ 
plicated,  partly  because  they  had  to  be  adapted, 
either  by  reference  or  by  way  of  exception,  to  the 
other  provisions  of  the  instrument  in  which  they 
are  contained,  partly  because  the  restoration  of 
territory  after  half  a  century  necessarily  raises 
questions  not  involved  in  the  original  cession. 

Such  a  question  was  that  of  citizenship,  which 
is  regulated  by  an  elaborate  annex,  adjusted  to  the 
complex  conditions  of  citizenship  and  nationality 
which  had  arisen  in  the  Reichsland.  The  general 
principle  adopted  is,  broadly  speaking,  that  French 
nationality  is  acquired  ipso  facto  by  those  who  had 
lost  it  in  1871  and  by  their  descendants,  except 
the  offspring  of  a  native  mother  and  a  German 
father  who  had  come  to  the  Reichsland  subse¬ 
quently  to  the  outbreak  of  the  Franco-Prussian 
war;  that  it  may  be  claimed  before  the  French 
authorities  by  all  others  save  Germans  and  the 
descendants  of  Germans  who  have  come  in  since 
1870;  and  that  such  German  immigrants  and  their 


1  Article  51. 

2  Articles  52-79  and  annex. 


ALSACE-LORRAINE  hi 

descendants  can  acquire  French  citizenship  only 
by  the  process  of  naturalization.  The  purpose 
of  the  whole  was  to  admit  on  the  basis  of  domicile 
before  1870,  and  to  exclude,  for  the  present,  the 
Germans,  with  their  descendants,  who  had  come 
to  the  Reichsland  in  large  numbers  since  the 
German  conquest. 

The  economic  provisions  had  to  consider  not 
only  the  status  of  such  individual  matters  as  debts 
and  contracts,  pensions  and  suits  at  law,  but  also 
the  new  relations  created  in  the  region  as  a  whole. 
Thus  France  acquired  the  public  property,  in¬ 
cluding  the  railroads,  without  any  payment,  and 
no  share  of  the  German  public  debt  or  war  in¬ 
demnity  was  attached  to  the  transferred  territory 
—  arrangements  which  offset  in  some  measure  the 
principal  and  interest  of  the  five  milliards  of  war 
indemnity  imposed  by  Germany  in  1871.  German 
economic  penetration  is  restricted  not  only  by  the 
liquidation  of  existing  enterprises  but  by  the  right 
to  prohibit  new  participation  in  public  utilities, 
mines,  quarries,  and  metallurgical  establishments. 
Important  temporary  provisions  guard  against  the 
effects  of  a  sudden  interruption  ol  relations  be¬ 
tween  the  Left  and  Right  Banks  in  such  matters 
as  ports,  terminals,  and  water  power,  and  in 
respect  to  customs  tariffs,  a  period  of  five  years 
being  set  during  which  tree  exportation  is  permitted 
into  Germany  and  free  importation  ot  textile 
materials  from  Germany  into  Alsace  and  Lorraine. 
This  last  is  particularly  important,  for  the  Reichs- 


1 1  2 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


land  enjoyed  profitable  markets  in  Germany,  and 
its  economic  prosperity  was  constantly  urged  as 
an  argument  for  remaining  under  German  rule. 
Whether  or  not  France  can  furnish  equally  good 
outlets  for  local  manufactures,  she  must  at  least 
provide  a  reasonable  period  for  readjustment  of 
the  lines  of  trade. 

The  largest  economic  question  involved  in  the 
return  of  the  lost  provinces  to  France  is  not  men¬ 
tioned  in  the  treaty,  namely  the  enormous  trans¬ 
fer  of  mineral  resources.  By  securing  the  potash 
of  Upper  Alsace  France  halves  the  German  supply 
and  thus  breaks  the  German  monopoly  of  the 
world’s  mineral  potash;  by  joining  the  iron  of 
Lorraine  to  the  iron  of  Briey,  Longwy,  and  Nancy, 
France  obtains,  save  for  the  small  share  of  Luxem¬ 
burg,  full  control  of  the  greatest  iron  field  in 
Europe.  The  minette  ore  is  no  longer  shared 
between  France  and  Germany,  it  is  monopolized 
by  France.  If  France  had  Germany’s  coal,  she 
might  try  to  establish  an  economic  supremacy  as 
great  as  that  possessed  by  Germany  at  the  out¬ 
break  of  the  war.  Late  in  1918  one  began  to  hear 
suggestions  for  some  sort  of  condominium  in  Lor¬ 
raine,  or  for  a  guarantee  of  German  participation  in 
its  mine  and  furnaces;  but  such  proposals  found  no 
favor  with  the  French  government.  No  such 
arrangements  had  been  made  for  the  benefit  of 
France  in  1871,  and  she  saw  no  reason  for  making 
them  now.  And  if  other  great  powers  had  pointed 
out  the  danger  of  so  great  a  monopoly  in  the 


ALSACE-LORRAINE 


ii  3 

world,  the  French  might  have  replied  that  they 
had  little  coal,  less  oil,  and  no  copper.  After  all,  the 
nub  of  the  situation  is  that  France  needs  coal  and 
Germany  needs  iron,  and  sooner  or  later  it  will  be 
necessary  to  exchange  one  for  the  other.  The 
sooner  this  natural  necessity  is  recognized  in  a 
modus  vivendi ,  the  better  for  all  concerned.  If  the 
compelling  forces  of  trade  are  not  allowed  to  assert 
themselves  with  reasonable  freedom,  the  matter 
may  wTell  cause  grave  international  difficulty. 

Nor  did  the  conference  concern  itself  with  other 
internal  matters  which  had  been  much  discussed 
before  the  armistice.  During  the  forty-seven 
years  of  separation,  France  and  the  Reichsland  had 
necessarily  diverged  in  many  matters  ol  institu¬ 
tions,  legislation,  and  social  conditions,  so  that 
several  difficult  problems  of  readjustment  were 
presented.  The  law  of  the  new  German  civil  code 
of  1900,  the  German  organization  of  local  govern¬ 
ment,  the  German  systems  of  taxation  and  social 
legislation  were  well  established  in  Alsace-Lorraine, 
and  could  not  immediately  be  rooted  up,  if  indeed 
their  abolition  was  always  desirable.  Perhaps 
the  most  striking  point  of  divergence  was  to  be 
found  in  the  relations  of  church  and  state.  The 
Reichsland  had  preserved  the  system  of  the  Con¬ 
cordat  of  1801  and  analogous  measures  for  the 
Protestant  and  Jewish  religious  bodies,  so  that  the 
government  maintained  religion  from  public  funds 
and  exercised  direct  authority  over  the  appoint¬ 
ment  of  the  clergy.  In  France  the  Separation 


1 14  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

Laws  of  1905  and  1907  had  carried  through  the 
complete  separation  of  church  and  state,  so  that 
the  state  relinquished  the  nomination  of  the  higher 
clergy  and  discontinued  the  payment  of  clerical 
salaries,  at  the  same  time  taking  over  ecclesias¬ 
tical  property.  France  had  also  suppressed  the 
teaching  religious  orders  and  put  all  education  into 
lay  hands  in  so-called  “neutral  schools.’  These 
measures  were  viewed  with  grave  disapproval  in 
Alsace-Lorraine,  a  deeply  religious  country  where 
the  great  majority  of  the  schools  are  under  the 
control  of  religious  bodies  and  much  of  the  lower 
education  is  still  in  the  hands  of  nuns.  Serious 
difficulty  would  be  encountered  in  extending  the 
French  system  to  Alsace-Lorraine,  and  in  this,  as 
in  other  fields,  some  measure  of  local  independence 
is  required,  at  least  for  the  present. 

In  adjusting  their  relations  with  the  restored 
provinces  the  French  will  need  an  uncommon 
measure  of  tact,  sympathetic  understanding,  and 
breadth  of  view,  and  any  mistakes  will  be  viewed 
critically  in  the  country  itself  and  magnified  beyond 
the  Rhine.  Nevertheless,  the  questions  are  not 
now  international,  and  it  is  earnestly  to  be  hoped 
that  they  may  not  become  international.  They 
may  best  be  left  in  the  hands  of  those  directly 
concerned,  the  people  of  France,  including  hence¬ 
forth,  for  this  as  for  all  other  purposes,  the  three 
departments  of  the  Haut-Rhin,  the  Bas-Rhin,  and 
the  Moselle,  which  were  once  known  as  Alsace- 
Lorraine. 


ALSACE-LORRAINE 


”5 


Bibliographical  Note 

The  best  history  of  Alsace  is  R.  Reuss,  Histoire  d' Alsace 
(nth  edition,  Paris,  1916).  There  is  no  analogous  work  for  Lor¬ 
raine;  see  C.  Pfister,  La  Lorraine ,  le  Barrois,  et  les  Trois  Eveches 
(Paris,  1912).  A  good  recent  book  in  German  is  lacking;  see 
Lorenz  and  Scherer,  Geschichte  des  Elsass  (Berlin,  1886).  For  the 
seventeenth  century,  see  R.  Reuss,  L’ Alsace  au  xviie  si'ecle  (Paris, 
1 897-98).  On  the  cession  of  1871,  see  G.  May,  Le  traite  de  Franc- 
fort  (Paris,  1909);  and  for  the  fixing  of  the  frontier,  A.  Laussedat, 
La  delimitation  de  la  fronti'ere  franco-allemande  (Paris,  1901),  with 
facsimile  of  the  original  map  showing  the  changes  between  the 
preliminaries  of  Versailles  and  the  final  treaty. 

There  is  a  vast  literature  of  the  period  since  1871  and  the  ‘ques¬ 
tion’  in  all  its  aspects.  Convenient  accounts  in  English  are  B. 
Cerf,  Alsace-Lorraine  since  1870  (New  York,  1919);  C.  D.  Hazen, 
Alsace-Lorraine  under  German  Rule  (New  York,  1917);  C.  Phillipson’ 
Alsace-Lorraine  (London,  1918);  and  E.  A.  Vizetelly,  The  True 
Story  of  Alsace-Lorraine  (London,  1918).  Examples  of  the  litera¬ 
ture  are:  H.  and  A.  Lichtenberger,  La  question  d' Alsace-Lorraine 
(Paris,  1915),  by  two  fair-minded  Frenchmen  of  Alsatian  origin; 
the  various  books  of  the  Alsatian  nationalist,  Abbe  E.  Wetterle; 
S.  Grumbach,  Das  Schicksal  Elsass-Lothringens  (Neuchatel,  1915), 
by  an  Alsatian  Socialist;  D.  Schafer,  Das  Reichsland  (Berlin,  1915), 
Pan-German;  H.  Wendel,  Elsas s-Lothringen  und  die  Sozial-Demo- 
kratie  (Berlin,  1916),  Social  Democrat;  H.  Ruland,  Deutschtum  und 
Franzosentum  in  Elsass-Lothringen  (Colmar,  1908);  E.  Florent- 
Matter,  Les  Alsaciens-Lorrains  contre  I'Allemagne  (Paris,  1918). 
The  brilliant  statement  of  the  French  case  in  the  letter  of  Fustel  de 
Coulanges  to  Mommsen  (now  in  his  Questions  historiques,  Paris, 
i893>  PP-  5°5“512)  has  lost  none  of  its  point  with  time.  A.  Schulte, 
Frankreich  und  das  linke  Rheinufer  (Stuttgart,  1918),  is  an  historical 
polemic  against  French  claims. 

A  good  manual  of  the  government  under  German  rule  is  O. 
Fischbach,  Das  offentliche  Recht  des  Reichslandes  (Tubingen,  1914). 

The  human  geography  of  the  whole  region  is  admirably  discussed 
in  P.  Vidal  de  la  Blache,  La  France  de  I’Est  (Paris,  1917).  There  is 
a  good  general  article  by  L.  Gallois  in  the  Geographical  Review , 
vi,  pp.  89-115  (1918).  There  are  excellent  discussions  of  resources, 
as  well  as  of  frontiers,  by  eminent  geographers  and  historians  in  the 
first  volume  of  the  Travaux  du  Comite  d'  Etudes:  LI  Alsace-Lorraine 
et  la  fronti'ere  du  Nord-est  (Paris,  1918). 


1 1 6  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


On  the  iron  of  Lorraine  see  The  Iron  Resources  of  the  W orld 
(Stockholm,  1910);  the  Atlas  of  Mineral  Resources  of  the  U.  S. 
Geological  Survey;  E.  Greaux,  Lefer  en  Lorraine  (Paris,  1908);  F. 
Engerand,  L! Allemagne  et  le  fer  (Paris,  1916);  H.  Schumacher,  Die 
westdeutsche  Eisenindustrie  (Leipzig,  1910);  P.  Krusch,  in  Peter- 
mann’s  Mitteilungen,  lxiii,  pp.  41-44  (1917). 

The  formation  of  Alsace  and  Lorraine  is  traced,  from  the  point 
of  view  that  they  are  naturally  German,  in  Boeckh  and  Kiepert, 
Historische  Karte  von  Elsass  und  Lothringen  (Berlin,  1870);  and  in 
Droysen,  Historischer  Handatlas  (1886),  no.  41.  For  the  changes 
of  1789-1815,  the  Atlas  of  the  Comite  d’Etudes  is  convenient,  as 
also  for  mineral  resources.  There  is  a  good  map  of  the  minette 
field  in  Petermann’s  Mitteilungen ,  1917,  plate  8.  The  linguistic 
maps  of  C.  This  will  be  found  in  Beitrage  zur  Landes-  und  Volks- 
kunde  von  Elsass-Lothringen,  parts  1  and  5  (1887,  1888);  those  of 
H.  Witte,  showing  the  modifications  of  the  linguistic  frontier,  in 
Forschungen  zur  deutschen  Landes-  und  V olkskunde ,  viii,  x.  A  per¬ 
centage  map  based  on  the  German  census  of  languages  is  given  by 
Langhans,  in  Deutsche  Erde ,  1910,  plate  1;  cf.  1909,  plate  3.  See 
also  Gallois’  maps  in  Annales  de  geographic,  ix,  nos.  4,  5;  and  Grober, 
Grundriss  der  romanischen  Philologie  (Strasburg,  1904-1906),  i,  end. 


IV 

THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR 


If  Alsace-Lorraine  occupied  the  attention  of 
the  Peace  Conference  in  far  less  measure  than  it  had 
occupied  the  attention  of  Europe  during  the 
preceding  half-century,  quite  the  contrary  is  true 
of  the  related  questions  of  the  Rhine,  the  Left 
Bank,  and  the  Saar  valley.  By  the  recovery  of 
Alsace  France  found  herself  once  more  on  the 
Rhine;  she  demanded  a  corresponding  voice  in 
Rhenish  affairs.  By  regaining  her  boundaries  of 
1870,  she  was  in  a  position  to  reopen  the  question 
of  her  boundaries  of  1814,  of  those  northern  ap¬ 
pendages  of  Alsace  and  Lorraine  which,  she  had 
lost  to  Prussia  in  1815  and  which  contained  the 
coal  so  much  needed  for  the  restoration  of  France. 
By  defeating  Germany  decisively  she  was  able  to 
demand  military  guarantees  on  the  Left  Bank 
against  another  German  invasion,  perhaps  even 
special  privileges  as  well.  French  imperialism, 
French  reparation,  French  self-defence  were  all 
in  some  degree  involved  in  these  problems  of  the 
Rhine  and  the  intervening  lands. 

Let  us  look  at  these  matters  in  their  historical 
setting.  To  German  geographers  and  historians 
the  Rhine  is  a  German  river,  by  nature  and  by 
history,  its  valley  forming  a  physiographic  unity, 
itself  the  great  highway  of  Germany.  It  is  true, 
they  sadly  admit,  that  the  upper  third  of  the  valley 

117 


1 1 8  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


has  been  in  course  of  time  almost  wholly  with¬ 
drawn  from  Germany  to  fall  under  Swiss  domina¬ 
tion,  but  this  still  remains,  in  culture  if  not  in 
politics,  almost  purely  Germanic,  like  the  lower 
Rhine  in  Holland.  The  common  German  view 
was  summed  up  a  century  ago  in  the  phrase  of 
Arndt,  so  often  repeated  in  1870,  “Der  Rhein 
Deutschlands  Strom,  nicht  Deutschlands  Grenze.” 

Since  the  seventeenth  century  there  have  not 
been  lacking  in  France  certain  historians  and 
geographers  who  have  maintained  that  the  Rhine 
was  the  natural  frontier  of  France,  as  it  had  been 
of  Roman  Gaul.  “Rhenus  finis  Germaniae,” 
said  the  contemporaries  of  Louis  XIV,  while  a 
century  later  Carnot  and  Danton  spoke  of  the 
Rhine  as  the  natural  limit  of  France.  Scholars 
of  this  way  of  thinking  have  insisted  upon  the 
fundamentally  Celtic  character  of  the  Left  Bank, 
if  not  of  the  Rhine  itself — is  not  der  Rhein ,  der 
deutsche  Rhein ,  originally  a  Celtic  word?  —  and 
have  emphasized  French  elements  in  Rhenish 
culture  and  French  influence  upon  its  political 
life.  During  the  war  men  of  this  school  organized 
the  Comite  de  la  Rive  Gauche  du  Rhin  and  pub¬ 
lished  a  fair  amount  of  propagandist  literature 
which  sought  to  reclaim  the  Left  Bank  for  France; 
but  while  the  group  included  some  scholars  of 
eminence,  it  cannot  be  considered  representative 
of  the  great  body  of  French  historians. 

To  one  who  approaches  the  matter  without  any 
nationalistic  prepossessions  the  fate  of  the  Rhine 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR  n9 
valley  seems  to  have  been  determined,  not  by  any 


geographic  necessity,  but  by  the  vicissitudes  of 
history.  France  has  no  such  clearly  marked 
frontier  on  the  northeast  as  it  possesses  in  other 
directions,  for  the  Rhine,  like  other  rivers,  unites 
more  than  it  divides,  while  a  mountain  range  like 
the  Vosges,  strongly  recommended  by  German 
writers  in  the  region  of  Alsace,  fails  as  we  proceed 
northward.  As  a  matter  of  history,  whatever 
value  the  Rhine  frontier  possessed  in  Roman  days 
disappeared  with  the  Germanic  invasions,  and 
ever  since  the  partitions  of  the  Frankish  empire 
in  the  ninth  century  the  lands  between  the  Rhine 
and  the  Meuse  have  been  debated  between  France 
and  Germany.  There  is  no  racial  frontier,  for 
the  region  is  one  of  mixed  Teutonic  and  Alpine 
types,  whose  distribution  was  more  affected  by 
highland  and  valley  than  by  any  considerations 
of  east  and  west.  There  is  a  linguistic  frontier, 
which  has  scarcely  changed  in  the  open  country 
since  the  early  Middle  Ages,  and  French  and  Ger¬ 
man  speech  have  naturally  been  the  vehicles  of 
their  respective  civilizations;  but  the  linguistic  and 
the  political  frontiers  have  rarely  coincided,  and 
“the  linguistic  frontier  has  never  determined  the 
political.”  1  The  decisive  considerations  have 
been  political  pressure  and  military  force,  and  in 
the  more  recent  period  political  affinities  and 
economic  relations. 

1  Dietrich  Schafer,  “Die  deutsch-franzosische  Sprachgrenze,”  in  Inter¬ 
nationale  Wochenschrijt,  vii,  p.  19  (1912). 


i2o  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


At  first  Germany  had  the  advantage,  if  we  mean 
by  Germany  that  loose  congeries  of  tribal  duchies 
and  later  of  feudal  principalities  which  made  up 
the  mediaeval  Empire.  Thus  the  partition  of 
Meersen  (870),  which  you  will  seek  in  vain  in 
the  text  of  Freeman’s  Geography  or  in  Schrader’s 
Atlas  historique ,  is  often  cited  by  German  scholars 
as  fixing  a  permanent  line  of  demarcation  to  Ger¬ 
many’s  advantage,  and  was  even  invoked  by 
Brockdorff-Rantzau  in  May  1919  as  the  original 
basis  of  the  German  title  to  the  Saar  valley.  Yet 
this  same  line  would  give  to  France  Maestricht, 
Liege,  and  the  mouths  of  the  Rhine!  After  the 
disintegration  of  the  Empire  in  the  later  Middle 
Ages,  French  advance  began  actively  in  the  six¬ 
teenth  century  in  the  region  of  the  Three  Bishop¬ 
rics.  In  the  seventeenth  century  Louis  XIV 
intrenched  himself  on  the  Saar  at  Saarlouis,  and 
piece  by  piece  gained  possession  of  Alsace.  The 
Revolution  carried  the  tricolor  down  the  Rhine 
from  Landau  to  the  Dutch  border.  Then  came 
the  treaty  of  Vienna,  setting  France  back  to  the 
limits  of  1789  and  even  farther,  and  the  treaty  of 
Frankfort  by  which  France  lost  all  contact  with 
the  Rhine.  The  victory  of  1918  again  put  France 
on  the  Rhine.  A  German  medal  of  1917  represents 
an  exhausted  France  driven  to  her  death  by  Eng¬ 
land  at  Verdun,  while  on  the  obverse  under  the 
insignia  of  peace  the  German  Rhine  flows  calmly 
on  —  “und  ruhig  fliesst  der  Rhein.”  The  French 
flag  now  floats  not  only  over  Verdun  but  over  Metz 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR  121 


and  Strasburg  as  well.  The  Rhine  still  flows  on 
but  in  its  Alsatian  portion  it  is  no  longer  the 
German  Rhine;  it  is  “ Deutschlands  Grenze,  nicht 
Deutschlands  Strom.” 

With  France  once  more  a  Rhine  power,  the  per¬ 
spective  requires  certain  readjustments.  First  of 
all,  there  is  the  question  of  navigation.  Freedom 
of  commerce  on  the  Rhine  was  established  in  1815 
by  the  treaty  of  Vienna,  but  it  has  been  exercised 
for  the  benefit  of  the  states  bordering  on  the  river, 
who  drew  up  in  1868  at  Mannheim  the  convention 
which  has  since  regulated  navigation  on  the  river. 
France  was  one  of  the  signatories,  but  dropped  out 
with  the  loss  of  her  riparian  status  in  1871,  when  a 
representative  was  assigned  to  the  Reichsland.  Of 
the  others, —  Baden,  Bavaria,  Hesse,  Holland,  and 
Prussia  —  Holland  and  Prussia  were  the  most 
important,  but  the  small  states  were  in  a  position 
to  delay  and  hinder.  The  executive  organ,  the 
Central  Commission  for  the  Navigation  of  the 
Rhine,  sat  semiannually  at  Mannheim,  but  had 
little  coercive  power  over  members.  Complaint 
was  made  of  discrimination  against  the  vessels  of 
other  states  and  against  certain  cities,  notably 
Strasburg.  Switzerland,  obviously  a  Rhine  power, 
asked  in  vain  for  admission.  In  spite  of  the 
enormous  growth  of  trade  on  the  Rhine,  the  whole 
system  belonged  to  an  earlier  age,  and  its  reform 
was  required  in  the  general  interest  as  well  as  in, 
the  interest  of  France. 


122 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


Besides  the  general  provisions  of  the  Paris  treaty 
,y  securing  freedom  of  transit  and  travel  across 
German  territory  and  prohibiting  discrimination 
against  the  nationals  of  the  Allied  and  Associated 
Powers  in  German  ports  and  German  rivers,  a 
special  chapter  deals  with  the  Rhine  and  its  tribu¬ 
taries.1  Pending  the  making  of  a  general  conven¬ 
tion  relating  to  international  waterways,  the  conven¬ 
tion  of  Mannheim  is  modified  by  granting  France 
representation  equal  to  the  total  number  of  dele¬ 
gates  of  the  German  riparian  states  (four),  as  well 
as  an  additional  member  as  President  of  the  Com¬ 
mission,  while  to  the  two  representatives  of  the 
Netherlands  are  added  an  equal  number  from 
Switzerland  and  from  Belgium,  whose  interests  in 
the  Rhine  are  thus  recognized,  and  from  two  out¬ 
side  powers  of  large  commercial  interests,  Great 
Britain  and  Italy.  At  the  same  time  the  jurisdic¬ 
tion  of  the  Commission  is  extended  to  cover  the 
upper  Rhine  between  Basel  and  Lake  Constance, 
if  Switzerland  consents,  the  lower  Moselle,  and 
tributary  canals  and  artificial  channels.  The 
headquarters  of  the  Commission  are  transferred 
from  Mannheim  to  Strasburg,  which  is  evidently 
meant  to  play  a  large  part  in  the  future  develop¬ 
ment  of  the  river.  In  order  that  Strasburg  may 
not  suffer  while  its  port  and  terminal  facilities  are 
being  developed  to  correspond  to  the  new  needs, 
the  opposite  port  of  Kehl  in  Baden  is  combined  for 
seven  years  into  a  single  port  with  Strasburg,  the 

1  Articles  354-362. 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR  123 

whole  under  the  supervision  of  the  Central  Rhine 
Commission.1 

Another  problem  of  the  upper  Rhine  is  that  of 
its  water  power,  a  matter  which  had  proved  diffi¬ 
cult  to  adjust  between  Baden  and  the  Reichsland 
and  was  likely  to  make  greater  trouble  between 
two  sovereign  and  antagonistic  states.  Alsace  had 
complained  that  the  Grand  Duchy  opposed  plans 
for  the  utilization  of  the  Rhine,  and  France  pro¬ 
posed  to  take  no  chances  of  future  disagreement. 

So  Germany  agrees  that,  subject  to  the  approval  of 
the  Central  Commission,  France  may  build  dams  , 
and  take  water  from  the  Rhine  on  the  whole  course 
of  the  river  between  the  extreme  points  of  the 
French  frontier,  acquiring  for  proper  compensation 
the  necessary  supports  and  rights  of  way  on  the 
Right  Bank,  with  the  understanding  that  Germany 
has  a  right  to  the  value  of  half  the  power  thus  pro- 
duced.  Germany  binds  herself  not  to  derive 
canals  from  the  Rhine  opposite  the  French  fron¬ 
tiers.2  Henceforth  the  Rhine  is  to  be  harnessed  to  / 
serve  the  needs  of  Alsace. 


Il  participation  in  the  affairs  of  the  upper  Rhine 
was  incidental  to  the  recovery  of  Alsace,  the  lower  \ 
course  of  the  river  was  quite  another  matter. 
Between  the  Rhine  and  the  Franco-Belgian  fron-  I 
tier  lay  a  belt  of  German  territory,  varying  in 
breadth  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  miles,  with  an 

1  Article  65. 

2  Articles  358-360. 


124  THE  peace  conference 

I  area  of  about  10,000  square  miles,  and  a  popula- 
j  tion  of  five  and  a  half  millions.  Of  these,  nearly 
a  million  were  in  the  Bavarian  Palatinate,  50,000 
\  in  the  principality  of  Birkenfeld,  about  400,000  in 
1  Hesse;  the  rest,  the  great  majority,  were  in  the 
j  Rheinprovinz  of  Prussia.  Practically  all  of  them 
spoke  German.  They  had  been  under  their  exist¬ 
ing  governments  for  at  least  a  century;  they  had 
\  been  under  some  sort  of  German  government  far 
i  longer. 

Down  to  1789  this  region  was  parcelled  out 
among  a  great  number  of  petty  principalities,  lay 
or  ecclesiastical,  from  the  considerable  dominions 
of  the  archbishoprics  of  Mainz,  Trier,  and  Cologne, 
and  the  bishoprics  of  Speier  and  Worms,  to  the 
minute  lay  states  of  a  few  villages  which  can 
scarcely  be  distinguished  on  the  map.  A  careful 
historian  has  counted  ninety-seven  such  independ¬ 
ent  states  on  the  Left  Bank  in  1789.  Swept  away 
by  the  Revolution,  most  of  them  were  never 
restored.  The  chief  exception  was  the  Palatinate, 
which  had  passed  about  from  one  branch  of  the 
reigning  family  to  another,  and  came  back  to 
Bavaria  in  1815  as  a  well  rounded  territory  under 
the  house  of  Zweibriicken.  The  Congress  of 
Vienna  also  handed  over  the  valley  of  the  Nahe  to 
Hesse-Darmstadt,  and  gave  the  duke  of  Olden¬ 
burg  a  compensation  of  25,000  souls  to  be  furnished 
by  Prussia,  20,000  of  which  were  found  on  the 
Left  Bank  and  formed  into  the  principality  of 
Birkenfeld. 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR 


I25 


The  great  gainer  by  the  new  arrangements  was 
Prussia.  Before  the  Revolution  her  only  posses¬ 
sions  on  the  Left  Bank,  namely  Cleves,  Mors,  and 
Prussian  Guelders,  were  on  the  lower  Rhine.  At 
Vienna,  as  a  compensation  for  the  Saxony  which 
was  refused  her,  she  was  given  the  greater  part  of 
the  Left  Bank,  her  territory  now  reaching  from  the 
valley  of  the  Saar  to  the  Dutch  border.  For  the 
first  time  Prussia  and  France  were  neighbors. 
However  German  these  lands  may  have  been,  they 
had  never  been  Prussian,  and  the  bargain  by  which 
they  were  handed  over  to  Prussia  took  no  account 
of  past  history  or  the  desires  of  the  population. 

If  the  Paris  Conference  was  to  undo  the  historic 
wrongs  perpetrated  at  Vienna,  it  could  well  begin 
here. 

A  wrong  a  hundred  years  old,  however,  is  not 
easily  undone,  and  its  undoing  may  constitute  an 
even  greater  wrong.  Particularist  at  the  outset, 
the  Rhineland  had  been  assimilated  by  Prussia  and 
by  the  new  German  empire,  partly  through  the 
agencies  of  government  and  administration,  still 
more  perhaps  through  its  participation  in  the  great 
economic  development  of  modern  Germany.  It 
had  become  the  seat  of  world  industries:  iron  and 
steel  mills,  sugar  refineries,  textile  manufactories, 
and  chemical  plants.  It  was  served  by  an  excel¬ 
lent  railroad  system,  and  by  the  shipping  of  the 
Rhine  and  its  tributaries.  Its  rapidly  growing 
cities  lay  on  both  banks  of  the  river.  It  was  in  J 
the  closest  connection  with  Westphalia,  Prussia’s 


12 6  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


other  great  industrial  province.  Since  1815  the 
population  of  the  Rheinprovinz  had  quadrupled, 
until  it  was  one  of  the  most  densely  peopled  regions 
of  Europe.  Under  Prussia  it  had  prospered  and 
waxed  fat,  and  prosperity  had  reconciled  differ- 
y  ences.  Then,  if  the  Rhineland  was  to  be  taken 
from  Prussia,  to  whom-  could  it  be  given?  No 
one  wanted  to  return  to  the  feudal  lords,  lay  or 
spiritual,  of  the  old  regime  and  the  simple  life. 
Could  the  land  go  back  to  France? 

A  For  twenty  years  only  had  the  Left  Bank  be- 
V  longed  to  France,  from  1794  to  1814.  These 
years,  however,  were  a  period  of  rapid  and  far- 
reaching  change.  In  place  of  the  ninety-seven 
petty  principalities  four  French  departments  had 
been  organized  and  then  incorporated  into  France, 
in  many  instances  upon  the  petitions  of  the  in¬ 
habitants  themselves.  Feudalism  and  ecclesiasti- 
y-cism  had  given  way  to  democracy,  the  local  laws 
had  been  superseded  by  the  Code  Napoleon,  which 
survived  on  the  Rhine  till  1900.  The  younger 
generation  learned  French  and  looked  toward 
France.  The  Prussians  in  1814  were  by  no  means 
generally  welcomed.  Small  wonder  that,  when  a 
,  new  victory  opened  the  way  to  the  Rhine,  the 
memories  of  a  French  Rhineland  should  suggest 
that  the  work  of  1794  might  be  repeated  and  the 
new  generation  taught  once  more  to  turn  to  France. 

\  Small  wonder  that  there  were  French  who  forgot, 
not  only  how  quickly  the  French  traditions  had 
faded  out  after  1815,  but  also  how  the  great 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR  127 

industrial  development  of  the  nineteenth  century- 
had  bound  the  Left  Bank  to  the  Right  by  bands 
of  steel  which  only  military  force  could  destroy. 
Such  force  some  were  willing  to  apply,  but  others 
trusted  still  to  the  influence  of  the  French  language 
and  the  popularity  and  adaptability  of  a  French 
occupation.  They  needed  to  ponder  the  prudent 
words  of  a  French  historian:  “If  it  is  well  for 
public  men  to  know  a  bit  of  history,  this  should 
be  only  on  condition  that  they  do  not  allow  them¬ 
selves  to  be  dominated  by  their  recollections  of 
the  past.”  1  He  is  a  wise  man  indeed  who  can 
always  distinguish  between  things  as  they  are  and 
things  as  he  wishes  them  to  be. 

In  the  French  projects  respecting  the  Left 
Bank  there  was  of  course  something  more  than 
sentiment,  and  there  was  also  something  more 
than  mere  imperialism,  whether  economic  or 
political.  It  was  in  this  region  that  France  must 
needs  seek  something  of  that  reparation  for  the 
devastation  of  war  which  Germany  seemed  unable 
to  furnish  elsewhere.  And  it  was  here  that 
France  would  also  seek  means  of  defence  and 
guarantees  against  a  new  German  invasion.  For 
any  particular  plan  more  than  one  of  these  reasons 
might  be  urged,  and  it  was  not  always  possible  to 
distinguish  what  was  imperialistic  by  nature  from 
what  was  necessary  to  the  restoration  and  pro¬ 
tection  of  France.  It  was  not  the  least  of  the 
services  performed  for  France  by  that  shrewd  old 

1  E.  Denis,  in  Travaux  du  Comite d’  etudes,  i,  p.  414. 


128  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


\  / 


man,  Georges  Clemenceau,  that  he  refused  to  be 
swept  on  by  the  extremists  and  limited  his  ultimate 
demands  to  the  substantial  results  which  the 
treaty  secured. 

I  Comparatively  few  Frenchmen  demanded  the 
V  outright  annexation  of  the _Left  Bank,  nor  was  the 
number  large  of  those  who  wished  to  prepare  for 
it  by  an  indefinitely  prolonged  military  occupation. 
Nevertheless,  the  annexationist  group  was  much 
in  evidence,  and  conducted  an  active  campaign. 
It  was  a  Conservative  and  Nationalist  body, 
whose  opinion  was  expressed  by  journals  like  the 
Echo  de  Paris  and  the  Libre  Parole .  It  had  also 
strong  support  in  high  military  quarters,  which 
desired  a  long  military  occupation  of  the  country, 
particuIarly_of_the  Rhine  itself  and  its  bridges. 


It  was  urged  that,however  the  historical  question 
might  lie,  the  Rhine  was  the  obvious  military 
frontier  of  France,  the  one  advanced  line  which 
could  not  be  turned  and  which  guaranteed  France 
against  invasion.  It  was  even  maintained  that 
this  was  the  real  frontier  of  all  the  Allies,  the  front 
line  that  must  be  held  at  all  cost  against  Germany. 
It  need  not  even  be  held  in  force,  for  Allied  control 
of  the  nine  great  Rhine  bridges  would  suffice  to 
prevent  invasion.  Germany  must  lose  her  spring¬ 
board  for  jumping  into  France! 

As  to  the  intervening  territory,  a  favorite 
French  solution  was  that  of  an  independent  buffer 
state  under  French  protection.  And  since  such  a 
state,  in  spite  of  its  great  resources,  would  not  be 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR  129 

large  enough  to  maintain  its  economic  independ¬ 
ence,  it  was  thought  preferable  that  it  should  lie 
within  the  French  customs  zone.  The  political 
status  of  such  a  state  was  variously  viewed  as  one 
of  entire  independence,  as  a  French  or  Allied 
protectorate,  or  as  a  federal  state  of  the  German 
empire  entirely  detached  from  Prussia.  At  one 
time  there  were  even  signs  of  a  movement  toward 
separation,  for  the  Catholic  Rhineland  was  in¬ 
clined  to  resist  the  programme  of  the  Majority 
Socialists,  and  there  were  French  Catholics  who 
would  have  welcomed  its  affiliation  to  France. 
Separatist  tendencies  were  not,  however,  en¬ 
couraged  by  England  and  the  United  States,  and 
they  never  reached  serious  proportions.  The 
most  notable  example  of  such  a  movement  was 
in  the  Palatinate,  where  French  troops  were  in 
possession.  Moreover  an  economic  protectorate 
recalled  too  directly  the  history  of  the  German 
Zollverein,  and  even  certain  economic  aims  of 
Germany  during  the  world  war.  The  only  definite 
advance  which  France  made  in  this  direction  was 
the  severance  of  Luxemburg  from  the  German 
customs  union  by  the  treaty,  and  its  subsequent 
entry  into  the  French  customs  union  by  popular 
vote  of  its  inhabitants  the  following  September. 

However  little  sympathy  might  be  felt  with  the 
various  projects  for  the  military  or  economic 
aggrandizement  of  France  on  the  Left  Bank, 
there  was  one  French  argument  that  was  un¬ 
answerable:  the  Left  Bank  and  the  Rhine  must 


130  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

not  be  made  the  basis  of  a  new  attack  against 
France  and  thus  against  the  world’s  peace.  Here 
Prussian  militarism  had  used  its  opportunities  to 
the  full.  The  Rhine  valley  was  covered  with 
munition  factories,  with  forts  and  garrisons  and 
parade  grounds,  with  bridges  and  strategic  rail¬ 
roads,  furnished  with  long  detraining  platforms 
in  the  open  country  or  great  camps  like  Elsenborn 
on  the  Belgian  frontier.  And  the  campaign  of 
1914  had  shown  to  what  use  all  this  could  be  put 
in  sudden  attack.  “Not  another  German  soldier 
on  the  Rhine,”  was  a  common  form  of  the  French 
demand.  The  demilitarization  of  the  Left  Bank 
was  an  elementary  demand  of  national,  and 
international,  security. 

The  clauses  to  this  effect  in  the  treaty  are  brief 
but  full  of  meaning: 


Article  42. 

Germany  is  forbidden  to  maintain  or  construct  any  forti¬ 
fications  either  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Rhine  or  on  the  right 
bank  to  the  west  of  a  line  drawn  50  kilometres  to  the  East  of 
the  Rhine. 

Article  43. 

In  the  area  defined  above  the  maintenance  and  the 
assembly  of  armed  forces,  either  permanently  or  temporarily, 
and  military  manoeuvres  of  any  kind,  as  well  as  the  upkeep 
of  all  permanent  works  for  mobilization,  are  in  the  same  way 
forbidden. 

Article  44. 

In  case  Germany  violates  in  any  manner  whatever  the 
provisions  of  Articles  42  and  43,  she  shall  be  regarded  as 
committing  a  hostile  act  against  the  Powers  signatory  of  the 
present  Treaty  and  as  calculated  to  disturb  the  peace  of  the 
world. 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR 


J3 1 


In  order  to  insure  immediate  and  full  effect  to 
these  articles,  the  provisions  respecting  guarantees 
of  the  whole  treaty  involve  the  occupation  of  this 
very  region.  German  territory  west  of  the  Rhine, 
together  with  the  Rhine  bridgeheads,  is  to  be  held 
for  fifteen  years  by  Allied  and  Associated  troops. 
In  case  of  faithful  execution  of  the  treaty,  this 
region  is  to  be  evacuated  by  these  troops  in  three 
successive  zones  at  intervals  of  five  years;  in  case 
of  non-execution,  the  territory  may  be  reoccupied 
and  the  period  of  occupation  extended.1  A  further 
agreement,  of  even  date  with  the  treaty,  provides 
for  the  administration  of  the  occupied  territory 
under  a  civilian  Inter-Allied  Rhineland  High 
Commission  representing  France,  Belgium,  Great 
Britain,  and  the  United  States,  subject  to  whose 
authority  the  German  local  administration  is 
maintained.  Neither  the  military  occupation  nor 
the  civilian  Commission  covers  the  demilitarized 
zone  on  the  Right  Bank,  a  gap  between  the  two 
systems  of  administration  which  was  to  prove 
particularly  serious  in  the  region  of  the  Ruhr,  the 
principal  source  of  the  coal  on  which  France  and 
other  Allies  had  an  option  under  other  clauses  of 
the  treaty,  a  district  liable  to  serious  industrial 
disturbances  for  the  suppression  of  which  the 
German  government  would  demand  the  right  to 
use  troops. 

Finally,  as  a  more  positive  and  direct  guarantee 
of  the  country  which  had  borne  the  brunt  of 


/ 

'/ 


1  Articles  428-432. 


132  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

Germany’s  aggression,  Great  Britain  and  the 
United  States  agreed  to  come  to  the  aid  of  France 
in  case  of  an  unprovoked  attack  by  Germany.1 
Designed  to  offer  adequate  assurance  during  the 
transitional  period  while  the  League  of  Nations 
was  getting  under  way,  this  supplementary  treaty 
recognized  not  only  the  peculiar  dangers  of  France, 
exposed  directly  to  the  full  force  of  a  German 
offensive,  but  also  the  general  interest  in  her  full 
security  and  protection.  To  the  French  this  was 
an  essential  part  of  the  peace  settlement,  and 
without  it  they  would  have  insisted  on  more  direct 
and  more  material  guarantees  of  their  own. 

Another  matter  affecting  the  Left  Bank  came 
into  prominence  at  the  conference,  namely  the 
valley  of  the  Saar.  From  one  point  of  view  this 
was  a  phase  of  the  question  of  Alsace-Lorraine, 
for  a  portion  of  the  Saar  basin  had  once  been  a 
part  of  Lorraine  and  the  recovery  of  the  lost 
provinces  revived  the  question  of  their  historic 
boundaries.  It  was  also  part  of  the  problem  of 
the  Left  Bank,  for  the  territory  belonged  to  Prussia 
and  Bavaria  and  was  inhabited  by  a  population 
of  predominantly  German  affinities,  and  any 
annexation  here  was  subject  to  the  same  objections 
as  elsewhere  on  German  soil.  Lastly,  the  coal 
mines  of  the  valley  raised  a  more  special  question, 

1  These  treaties,  the  American  one  not  yet  ratified,  and  the  agreements 
concerning  occupation  of  the  Rhine  will  be  found  in  the  Supplement  to  the 
American  Journal  oj  International  Law,  xiii,  pp.  404-416. 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR 


133 


for  they  adjoined  immediately  the  new  boundary 
of  France,  and  thus  offered  an  easy  source  of 
reparation  for  the  destruction  and  devastation 
French  territory. 

At  the  outbreak  of  the  French  Revolution  neither 
Alsace  nor  Lorraine  possessed  a  clearly  defined 
frontier  toward  the  north.  In  each  case  the  bound¬ 
ary  had  arisen  historically,  without  any  large 
measures  of  readjustment  or  delimitation,  in  a 
region  of  minute  subdivisions  and  overlapping 
claims;  and  the  result  was  a  tortuous,  broken  line, 
with  enclaves  on  either  side,  which  defied  geo¬ 
graphical  and  administrative  convenience.  At 
certain  points  the  limits  of  sovereignty  were  in 
dispute,  and  the  boundary  cannot  everywhere  be 
defined  with  certainty.  In  Alsace,  beyond  the 
present  limit  of  the  river  Lauter,  lay  the  enclave 
of  Landau,  an  old  Alsatian  city  which  had  passed 
to  France  in  1648,  while  the  intervening  territory 
obeyed  the  bishop  of  Speier,  the  duke  of  Zwei- 
briicken,  or  the  Elector  Palatine.  To  the  north 
of  Lorraine  Louis  XIV  had  established  French 
influence  on  the  Saar  and  constructed  his  new  town 
of  Saarlouis,  as  an  outpost  to  insure  the  military 
control  of  the  valley.  The  acquisition  in  the 
eighteenth  century  of  the  duchy  of  Lorraine, 
already  traversed  and  cut  up  by  pieces  of  French 
territory,  carried  the  French  frontier  well  to  the 
north  and  east  of  Saarlouis,  while  at  the  same  time 
it  left  the  German  county  of  Saarbriicken  astride 
the  Saar  on  either  side  of  the  town  of  the  same  name. 


of  > 
of/ 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


i34 

A  glance  at  the  map  will  show  the  impossible  char¬ 
acter  of  the  resulting  frontier,  which  had  not  been 
greatly  improved  when  the  armies  of  the  Revolu¬ 
tion  poured  over  it  and  added  the  whole  region  to 
France.  That  its  incorporation  was  not  a  simple 
act  of  violence  appears  from  various  petitions  of 
1797  asking  for  the  privileges  of  French  citizenship, 
among  them  a  long  list  of  signers  from  the  canton 
of  Saarbriicken.1 

In  1814  the  first  treaty  of  Paris  had  as  its  primary 
task  to  reestablish  the  limits  of  France.  As  the 
basis  of  its  work  it  took  the  frontier  of  January  1, 
1792,  as  anterior  to  the  revolutionary  wars  of  con¬ 
quest.  In  this  region,  this  did  not  differ  from  the 
frontier  of  1789.  It  was,  however,  recognized 
that  the  old  frontier  had  become  an  impossibility 
in  the  region  of  Alsace-Lorraine,  and  required 
straightening  and  adjustment  to  adapt  it  to  modern 
conditions.  Accordingly  enclaves  were  abandoned 
on  either  side.  Toward  the  Rhine  the  new  arrange¬ 
ment  took  away  certain  French  dependencies  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Wissembourg  and  Landau, 
but  left  France  those  towns  and  added  a  connect¬ 
ing  strip  of  territory  extending  east  to  the  Rhine. 
In  the  region  of  the  Saar  France  lost  the  outlying 
lands  to  the  north  and  gained  the  valley  of  the 
river  above  Saarlouis,  including  Saarbriicken  and 
the  region  round  about.  In  area  the  adjustments 
roughly  balanced,  but  in  resources  France  had 
received  an  advantage  because  of  the  coal  deposits 

1  Facsimiles  in  Atlas  of  the  Ccmite  d’Etudes. 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR  135 

thus  retained.  As  a  geographic  frontier,  the  new 
line  of  1814  was  a  great  improvement,  but  it  was 
never  laid  out  on  the  spot  or  put  into  actual  effect. 

In  the  frontier  imposed  upon  her  in  1815  France 
paid  the  penalty  for  Napoleon’s  Hundred  Days  of 
glory.  Toward  the  Rhine  Landau  was  taken,  and 
her  territory  was  cut  back  to  the  Lauter.  In 
Lorraine  she  lost  the  whole  middle  and  lower 
portion  of  the  Saar  valley,  including  not  only  the 
new  acquisitions  about  Saarbriicken  but  the  town 
of  Saarlouis,  which  had  been  French  since  its 
foundation.  In  theory  the  frontier  of  1815  was 
to  reestablish  the  France  of  1789.  In  fact  it  left 
France  smaller  than  in  1789.  And  what  was  taken 
was  given,  not  to  the  former  rulers,  still  less  to  the 
inhabitants,  but  to  Prussia.  Whatever  may  be 
said  against  the  claims  of  France  in  this  region, 
Prussia  had  no  rights  there  of  any  sort.  Her 
nearest  Rhenish  possessions  in  1789  had  been  a 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  away.  She  was  estab¬ 
lished  on  the  Rhine,  not  because  the  people  wanted 
her,  but  because  she  wanted  territory  —  Saxony, 
if  possible,  if  not,  something  else  —  and  because 
the  Allies  wanted  somebody  to  watch  France. 

So  the  reasons  of  the  boundary  line  of  1815  are 
not  far  to  seek.  Landau  and  Saarlouis  were  for¬ 
tresses  of  Vauban,  defences  of  which  it  was  thought 
prudent  to  deprive  France,  and  this  strategic 
argument  has  always  been  emphasized.  We  now 
know  that  the  coal  of  the  Saar  was  also  a  reason. 
This  was  openly  stated  by  German  historians 


136  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

before  the  war,  and  is  supported  by  the  corre¬ 
spondence  of  Heinrich  Booking,  an  agent  of  the 
German  family  of  Stumm,  still  one  of  the  great 
manufacturing  firms  of  the  region.  Made  com¬ 
missioner  of  the  mines  in  1814,  he  followed  the 
Prussian  commissioners  to  Paris  in  the  following 
year,  and  urged  large  annexations  for  Prussia  at 
the  expense  of  the  Palatinate  and  France.  In  1802 
the  French  had  opened  a  mining  school  at  Geis- 
lautern,  near  Saarbriicken,  and  developed  consid¬ 
erably  the  mines  and  industries  of  the  region. 
Their  careful  surveys  of  the  coal  field  were  insist¬ 
ently  demanded  by  the  Prussians,  and  finally 
acquired  in  1817.  Some  petitions  from  the  inhabi¬ 
tants  were  received  by  the  Prussians  from  Saar- 
briicken,  but  then  there  had  been  petitions  in  the 
opposite  sense  in  1797. 

The  loss  of  the  frontier  of  1814  to  Prussia  re¬ 
mained  a  sore  point  with  France  until  it  was 
swallowed  up  in  the  greater  loss  of  1871.  When 
the  recovery  of  Alsace-Lorraine  in  1918  revived 
the  question  of  their  former  boundaries,  it  was 
natural  to  inquire  what  the  intervening  century 
had  brought  forth.  In  the  region  of  Landau  there 
has  been  little  change.  A  town  of  5000  in  1815, 
it  had  grown  only  to  18,000  in  1910.  The  sur¬ 
rounding  region  of  farm  and  forest  had  likewise 
altered  little.  The  Saar  valley,  on  the  other  hand, 
had  shared  the  industrial  development  of  the  most 
prosperous  parts  of  the  Rheinprovinz.  Its  coal 
mines,  and  those  of  the  neighboring  villages  of  the 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR  137 

Palatinate,  had  come  to  produce  eight  per  cent  of 
the  huge  output  of  the  German  empire.  About 
this  supply  of  fuel  had  grown  up  numerous  in¬ 
dustrial  establishments  —  pottery  and  glassware 
to  some  extent,  but  especially  blast  furnaces  and 
great  iron  and  steel  plants  at  Dillingen,  Volk- 
lingen,  Burbach,  and  Neunkirchen,  busy  on  tasks 
of  war  as  well  as  on  those  of  peace.  Great  names 
in  the  German  iron  and  steel  industry  stand  out  as 
the  proprietors  —  Bocking,  Rochling,  Mannes- 
mann,  Stumm.  Saarbriicken,  a  town  of  perhaps 
5000  in  1815,  had  a  population  of  105,000  in  1910. 
To  the  north  and  to  the  west  the  lines  of  industrial 
towns  were  almost  unbroken.  355,000  people  now 
lived  between  the  Saar  frontiers  of  1814  and  1815; 
and  as  many  more  in  the  adjoining  regions  which 
depended  on  the  valley’s  coal  and  manufactures. 
The  Prussian  railroad  system  threw  its  network 
over  the  basin.  Prussian  legislation  provided 
houses  and  schools  and  social  insurance  for  the 
workmen.  Save  perhaps  for  the  beautiful  state 
forests  which  ran  to  the  edge  of  the  towns  and  the 
mines,  the  whole  character  of  the  country  recalled 
the  great  industrial  region  of  the  lower  Rhine. 
Over  the  border  of  the  Palatinate  matters  moved  a 
bit  more  slowly,  after  the  Bavarian  fashion.  The 
towns  were  not  quite  so  spick-and-span,  the  model 
dwellings  were  not  so  much  in  evidence,  the  local 
capital,  Zweibriicken,  preserved  the  flavor  of  a 
Residenzstadt  of  the  old  regime.  But  the  flavor 
was  German  not  French.  In  the  western  part  of 


138  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

the  valley  French  names  could  still  be  found, 
notably  in  Saarlouis,  which  kept  much  of  the 
appearance  of  an  old  French  town,  with  its  hotel  de 
ville,  its  great  public  square,  and  along  the  river 
front  the  remains  of  its  fortifications  built  by  Vau- 
ban.  And  there  were  those  who  had  not  wholly 
forgotten  that  Saarlouis  was  the  birthplace  of 
Marshal  Ney. 

In  France,  at  least,  there  were  many  who  had 
not  forgotten.  The  demand  for  the  frontier  of 
1814  was  noticeably  greater  than  that  for  other 
parts  of  the  Left  Bank.  It  was  partly  historic,  a 
desire  to  reclaim  what  had  once  been  French  and 
had  played  its  part  in  the  great  deeds  of  French 
history.  This  was  not  confined  to  partisans  of 
l the  old  regime:  Aulard,  historian  and  upholder 
of  the  Revolution,  urged  the  return  of  Saarlouis 
and  Landau  on  the  ground  that  they  had  sworn 
the  great  revolutionary  covenant  of  1790  and  had 
been  torn  from  France  by  violence  in  1815,  as  were 
Alsace  and  Lorraine  half  a  century  later.1  Popular 
interest  would  have  been  greater  if  the  frontier  of 
1814  had  been  a  real  line  separating  peoples  for  a 
term  of  years,  instead  of  a  provision  on  paper. 
And  the  historic  frontier  of  1792,  the  actual 
boundary  during  the  eighteenth  century,  had 
become  impossible;  no  one  asked  for  that.  The 
best  historic  argument  for  the  frontier  of  1814 
was  that  it  had  then  been  considered  a  just  and 

1  “Landau  et  Sarrelouis  villes  frangaises,”  in  Revue  de  Paris,  March  15, 
1919. 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR  139 

practical  equivalent  for  the  line  of  1792;  in  that 
sense  it  represented  the  peace  of  justice,  while  the 
line  of  1815  was  clearly  the  peace  of  violence. 

Stronger  than  the  historic  argument  was  the 
economic:  France,  a  country  poor  in  coal,  had 
been  forcibly  despoiled  of  the  Saar  mines  in  1814; 
she  needed  them  back;  and  her  need  was  now  much 
greater  since  the  wanton  and  systematic  destruc¬ 
tion  of  her  mines  in  the  Nord  and  Pas-de-Calais 
by  the  Germans.  The  two  arguments  did  not 
entirely  coincide,  so  far  as  the  Saar  was  concerned. 
The  historic  argument  was  strongest  in  respect 
to  the  district  of  Saarlouis,  where  there  was  little 
coal.  Saarbriicken,  the  centre  of  the  coal  field, 
had  been  French  only  for  a  brief  period,  1793-1815. 
Moreover,  the  frontier  of  1814  did  not  cover  the 
whole  of  the  mining  area,  perhaps  a  third  of  which 
lay  to  the  north  toward  Ottweiier  and  to  the  east 
in  the  Palatinate,  and  its  reestablishment  would 
have  disrupted  the  economic  life  of  the  region. 

Many  Frenchmen  were  genuinely  opposed  to 
any  annexations  of  territory  beyond  the  Alsace- 
Lorraine  of  1871,  as  contrary  to  the  principles  on 
which  the  war  had  been  fought.  They  had  not, 
they  said,  been  fighting  for  the  Rhine  or  the  Saar. 
This  was  the  Socialist  contention,  and  it  was  shared 
by  many  Republicans  who  were  not  Socialists. 
All,  however,  who  looked  facts  in  the  face  felt  the 
need  of  the  coal.  “If  we  could  only  get  the  coal 
without  the  people,”  said  a  distinguished  Socialist 
early  in  the  winter.  “We  must  have  the  coal, 


1 4o  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

and  we  must  find  some  arrangement  to  get  it 
without  annexing  the  population,”  a  great  his¬ 
torian  said  a  little  later. 

The  people  were  overwhelmingly  German.  A 
considerable  directing  element  of  capitalists,  engi¬ 
neers,  and  officials  had  come  from  other  parts  of 
the  empire,  but  the  great  majority  were  natives 
of  the  region.  The  mining  population  of  56,000 
included  surprisingly  few  foreigners  or  even  Ger¬ 
mans  from  a  distance.  Many  had  their  cottages 
with  a  plot  of  ground  about,  going  to  and  fro  daily 
on  workmen’s  trains  or  returning  home  for  the 
week-end.  The  ruling  element  was  strongly  Prus¬ 
sian,  a  part  of  the  great  administrative  machine 
directed  from  Berlin.  The  regular  local  adminis¬ 
tration  existed,  but  only  as  a  part  of  the  Rhein- 
provinz  and  of  a  Regierungsbezirk  administered 
from  Trier.  The  adjoining  portions  of  the  Palat¬ 
inate  were  governed  from  Munich  and  Speier. 
The  economic  unity  of  the  region  had  no  cor¬ 
responding  political  organization,  as  was  admitted 
by  German  officials.  The  mass  of  the  people  were 
particularly  interested  in  their  labor  organizations 
and  in  their  rights  under  German  labor  legislation. 
If  they  had  been  consulted,  they  would  doubt¬ 
less  have  voted  to  remain  with  Germany.  But 
it  was  at  least  debatable  whether  they  had  a 
right  at  the  same  time  to  vote  to  Germany  the 
mines  which  she  had  taken  in  1815  without  con¬ 
sulting  anybody.  The  control  of  key  deposits  of 
minerals  by  the  small  population  which  happens 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR  141 


to  live  over  them  is  not  a  necessary  part  of  the 
principle  of  self-determination,  particularly  when 
this  population  forms  part  of  a  state  which  has 
been  destroying  the  mines  of  others.  The  separa¬ 
tion  of  mines  from  people  may  sometimes  be 
governed  by  international  considerations. 

The  coal  field  of  the  Saar  is  the  northern  outcrop 
of  a  considerable  deposit  which  extends  in  a  south¬ 
westerly  direction  across  Lorraine  to  the  Moselle 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Pont-a-Mousson.  Toward 
the  southwest,  however,  the  strata  dip  so  deep  as 
to  be  unworkable.  The  practicable  part  of  the 
field  is  in  the  Saar  valley,  partly  on  the  edge  of 
annexed  Lorraine,  chiefly  in  Rhenish  Prussia, 
with  a  small  strip  in  the  adjoining  part  of  the 
Palatinate.  The  total  output  in  1913  was  seven¬ 
teen  and  a  half  million  tons,  of  which  two-thirds 
was  mined  between  the  frontiers  of  1814  and  1815. 
It  was  understood,  however,  that  production  had 
been  artificially  restricted  in  the  interest  of  the 
Westphalian  field,  and  the  proportion  of  the  actual 
coal  reserve  was  much  greater.  Any  estimates  of 
reserves  are  necessarily  approximate,  but  in  1913 
it  was  calculated  that  the  Saar  field  contained 


seventeen  billion  tons,  equal  to  22%  of  the  total 
German  reserve,  and  more  than  the  whole  known 
supply  of  France,  a  country  relatively  poor  in  coal. 
No  wonder  the  French  found  it  hard  to  forget  the 
loss  of  1815!  Moreover,  all  the  mines  in  operation 
lay  within  a  dozen  miles  of  the  new  French  fron¬ 
tier  in  Lorraine. 


i42  the  peace  conference 

France  not  only  needed  this  coal,  she  had  a  strong 
claim  to  it.  The  chief  French  mines,  those  of 
Lens  and  Valenciennes  on  the  Belgian  border,  had 
been  in  German  hands  for  more  than  four  years 
and  had  been  deliberately  flooded  and  rendered 
unworkable  by  the  occupying  armies.  The  period 
of  restoration  was  variously  estimated;  it  has  since 
been  fixed  by  German  engineers  at  eight  years  at 
the  least,  and  the  total  property  loss  has  been 
estimated  at  eighty  per  cent.  For  this  definite 
reparation  in  kind  could  be  exacted  in  the  Saar 
field.  But  that  was  not  all.  Germany  had  agreed 
to  compensate  for  all  damage  done  to  the  civilian 
population  and  their  property,  yet  conservative 
estimates  of  the  bill  for  general  reparation  in 
northern  France  far  exceeded  any  available  means 
of  payment  on  Germany’s  part,  even  when  the 
payment  was  spread  over  a  long  series  of  years  and 
thus  reduced  in  actual  restorative  power.  Pro¬ 
posals  to  take  over  German  enterprises  like  rail¬ 
roads  or  factories  were  impracticable,  not  only 
because  of  the  political  difficulties  of  operating 
them  on  German  territory  but  because  this  would 
interfere  with  Germany’s  ability  to  earn  her 
annual  payments  of  indemnity.  The  Saar  mines, 
on  the  contrary,  lay  on  the  outer  edge  of  Germany; 
they  were  already  linked  with  the  industries  of 
Lorraine,  henceforth  French;  they  were,  with  two 
exceptions  (Frankenholz  and  Hostenbach),  the 
property  of  the  Prussian  and  Bavarian  states. 
Always  supposing  that  they  were  properly  credited 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR  143 

on  the  reparation  account,  no  better  means  of 
payment  could  be  found  for  a  debt  whicn  German) 
had  agreed  to  pay. 

Accordingly,  it  was  agreed  in  principle,  late  in 
March  1919,  that  the  full  ownership  of  the  coal 
mines  of  the  Saar  basin  should  pass  to  Fiance,  to 
be  credited  on  her  claims  against  Germany  for 
reparation.  With  lull  and  unencumbered  prop¬ 
erty  in  the  mines  the  treaty  gave  the  fullest 
economic  facilities  for  their  exploitation,  including 
the  acquisition  of  all  subsidiaries  and  dependencies, 
freedom  of  transportation  and  sale,  exemption 
from  other  than  local  taxes,  and  full  mobility  ol 
labor.  The  mines  were  placed  within  the  French 
customs  union,  and  payment  in  connection  with 
their  operation  might  be  made  in  French  money. 
The  elementary  justice  of  this  transfer  of  the  mines 
to  France  has  become  increasingly  clear  in  the 
past  few  months.  Out  of  the  crumbling  un¬ 
certainties  of  reparation  for  war  damage,  France 
secures  one  solid  asset,  and  she  secures  it  in  a  torm 
absolutely  essential  for  the  revival  ol  her  wrecked 
industries.  Those  who  have  urged  that  she  ought 
to  have  been  satisfied  with  a  coal  contract  instead, 
a  claim  for  delivery  rather  than  mines  to  be 
worked,  have  been  refuted  by  the  decreasing 
production  of  coal  in  Germany  and  the  growing 
unwillingness  of  the  Germans  to  make  the  deliv¬ 
eries  of  coal  to  which  they  obligated  themselves 
in  the  treaty.  A  mine  in  hand  is  worth  many 
contracts  to  deliver. 


i44 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


The  transfer  of  the  Saar  mines  and  their  ap¬ 
purtenances  to  the  French  state  raised  a  difficult 
question  of  administration.  If  the  German  gov¬ 
ernment  retained  the  full  power  to  fix  the  condi¬ 
tions  of  exploitation,  transportation,  and  sale, 
and  if  German  legislation  was  to  be  carried  out 
by  Prussian  officials,  the  conditions  of  opera¬ 
tion  could  easily  be  made  impossible,  and  the 
ownership  of  the  mines  prove  nugatory.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  the  government  were  handed  over, 
either  temporarily  or  permanently,  to  France,  the 
inhabitants  lost  their  political  rights  and  were 
subjected  to  an  alien  rule.  It  was  the  old  ques¬ 
tion,  how  to  transfer  the  mines  without  subjecting 
the  people. 

The  solution  of  this  conflict  of  rights  and  inter¬ 
ests  was  found  in  the  international  organization  of 
the  League  of  Nations.  Germany  agreed  to  hand 
over  the  government  of  the  territory,  but  not  the 
ultimate  sovereignty,  to  the  League  of  Nations 
as  trustee,  and  the  League  is  to  administer  it 
through  an  international  Governing  Commission. 
This  commission  consists  of  five  members,  one  a 
native  inhabitant  of  the  Saar  territory,  one  a 
Frenchman,  the  others  representing  other  nations. 
Sitting  in  the  territory,  it  has  all  powers  of  govern¬ 
ment  hitherto  belonging  to  the  German  empire, 
Prussia,  and  Bavaria,  and  full  power  to  administer 
the  local  public  services.  It  must  maintain  the 
existing  system  of  courts  and  local  officials,  and 
must  consult  an  elective  assembly  with  respect  to 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR  145 

new  taxes  or  legislation.  Subject  to  its  control, 
“the  inhabitants  will  retain  their  local  assemblies, 
their  religious  liberties,  their  schools,  and  their 
language.”  They  keep  also  their  German  nation¬ 
ality,  their  rights  under  German  labor  legislation, 
their  pension  rights  and  accrued  pensions.  .  They 
lose  only  their  right  to  vote  for  representatives  in 
the  Reichstag  and  the  Prussian  and  Bavarian 
diets;  their  participation  in  self-government  is 
much  greater  than  that  of  the  inhabitants  ol  the 
District  of  Columbia!  They  gain  the  advantages 
of  a  governing  body  resident  in  the  territory  and 
familiar  with  its  special  needs,  in  place  ol  an 
administration  from  Berlin  and  Munich.  They 
also  gain  exemption  from  military  service  and  other 
than  local  taxes,  and  from  contribution  to  the 
German  war  indemnities,  besides  favorable  ad¬ 
justments  of  customs  duties. 

This  system  will  have  a  fifteen  years  trial,  at 
the  end  of  which  the  people  are  to  be  called  on  to 
vote,  district  by  district,  as  to  their  future  political 
status.  The  alternatives  will  be  reunion  with 
Germany,  union  with  France,  or  continuance 
under  the  League  of  Nations  with  such  modifica¬ 
tions  of  the  regime  as  may  be  necessary  to  adapt 
it  to  permanent  use.  Voting  is  open  to  all  ol  the 
age  of  twenty  who  were  resident  in  the  territory 
at  the  date  of  the  signature  of  the  treaty  of  Ver¬ 
sailles,  and  to  these  only,  so  that  all  temptation  to 
colonize  voters  is  thus  removed,  whether  on  the 
French  or  on  the  German  side.  The  League  ol 


146  the  peace  conference 


Nations  shall  take  the  necessary  measures  to  put 
these  votes  into  effect,  making  such  decisions  as 
may  be  necessary  to  adjust  boundaries,  etc.  In 
any  portion  of  the  territory  which  votes  to  return 
to  Germany,  the  German  government  shall  buy 
back  the  mines,  so  as  to  remove  any  danger  of 
friction  over  their  operation.  No  such  purchase 
is  required  in  territory  which  may  become  French 
or  remain  under  the  League.1 

The  territory  of  the  Saar  basin  thus  created  by 
v  the  treaty  of  Versailles  and  governed  by  the  Inter¬ 
national  Commission  covers  700  square  miles  with 
a  population  of  650,000  —  more  than  the  popula¬ 
tion  of  Rhode  Island,  with  two-thirds  the  area.  Its 
boundaries  were  carefully  drawn  so  that,  while  fol¬ 
lowing  as  far  as  possible  the  lines  of  existing  admin¬ 
istrative  divisions,  they  should  include  only  the 
region  economically  dependent  on  the  coal  of  the 
basin.  It  takes  in  the  valley  of  the  Saar  from  the 
point  below  Sarreguemines  where  its  right  bank 
ceases  to  be  French  territory  to  Saarholzbach, 
where  the  narrows  of  the  mountains  close  in  and 
the  workmen’s  trains  stop.  To  the  north  it  covers 
only  the  area  for  which  coal  concessions  have  been 
granted  and  within  which  local  industries  live  from 
the  coal,  the  whole  being  belted  by  a  connecting 
series  of  railroad  lines.  On  the  east  it  enters  the 
Palatinate  sufficiently  to  include  the  coal  mines 
along  the  border  and  the  railroad  junction  of  Hom- 
burg  which  links  up  the  railroads  of  the  eastern 

1  Articles  42-50  and  annex,  with  official  map. 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR  147 

part  of  the  basin.  The  territory  has  an  economic 
unity,  ignored  by  its  previous  administrative 
organization,  but  recognized  by  those  familiar  with 
local  conditions.  Petitions  to  join  the  Saar  basin 
have  since  been  made  to  the  League  of  Nations 
by  inhabitants  of  Britten,  Losheim,  Wadern,  and 
Weisskirchen,  which  adjoin  the  district  on  the 
'  north  in  Prussia. 

Whether  the  lot  of  the  Saar  territory  will  appear 
enviable  to  other  neighboring  districts,  it  is  still 
too  soon  to  say.  In  spite  of  the  misrepresentation 
of  this  chapter  of  the  treaty  by  German  and  pro- 
German  writers,  an  examination  of  its  provisions 
shows  that  the  rights  and  interests  of  the  inhab¬ 
itants  have  been  carefully  safeguarded  under 
international  guarantees.  Indeed  their  position 
has  so  many  advantages  as  compared  with  their 
neighbors  in  France  and  Germany  that  there  were 
those  at  Paris  who  predicted  that  the  plebiscite 
of  1935  would  declare  for  the  maintenance  of  an 
independent  status  under  the  League  of  Nations, 
free  from  outside  responsibilities,  both  military 
and  fiscal.  Undoubtedly  the  issues  will  be  eco¬ 
nomic  as  well  as  political,  and  much  of  the  success 
of  the  new  regime  will  depend  on  the  economic  and 
social  policy  of  the  Governing  Commission.  Dur¬ 
ing  the  delays  of  ratification  and  organization  the 
labor  legislation  of  the  district  necessarily  stood 
still  at  the  point  reached  at  the  time  of  the  Armi¬ 
stice,  and  a  considerable  task  of  readjustment 
and  reconstruction  falls  on  the  new  Commission, 


148  the  peace  conference 

in  a  region  inhabited  by  a  concentrated  mining 
and  industrial  population  with  a  strong  local 
organization  of  its  own.  It  should  be  noted  that, 
besides  the  general  obligation  to  consult  a  local 
legislative  assembly,  it  is  provided  that  “in  fixing 
the  conditions  and  hours  of  labor  for  men,  women, 
and  children,  the  Governing  Commission  is  to 
take  into  consideration  the  wishes  expressed  by 
the  local  labor  organizations,  as  well  as  the  princi¬ 
ples  adopted  by  the  League  of  Nations,’’  1  so  that 
a  progressive  policy  is  clearly  laid  down.  More¬ 
over,  by  virtue  of  its  geographical  position,  the 
labor  of  the  Saar  should  be  able  to  secure  condi¬ 
tions  at  least  as  favorable  as  in  adjoining  regions, 
while,  with  a  plebiscite  in  view,  the  French  state 
administration  of  the  mines  will  have  every  reason 
to  maintain  good  relations  with  the  mining  popu¬ 
lation.  At  the  same  time  neither  France  nor  the 
Commission  will  have  any  reason  for  holding  back 
the  production  of  coal  or  the  general  industrial 
development  of  the  district  in  favor  of  the  mines 
and  factories  of  Westphalia.  In  any  event  the 
people  of  the  Saar  will  be  in  a  position  to  decide 
for  themselves,  district  by  district,  after  actual 
experience  of  the  new  regime;  nor  are  they  likely 
to  welcome  the  proposal  of  an  ardent  revisionist 
of  the  treaty  of  Versailles,  who,  while  admitting 
that  the  arrangements  respecting  the  Saar  should 
stand  for  ten  years,  would  take  away  from  the 
inhabitants  all  opportunity  of  voting  as  to  their 

1  Annex  to  the  Saar  section  of  the  treaty,  §  23. 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR  149 

future.1  If  government  by  the  League  of  Nations 
is  as  “odious”  as  the  German  delegates  declared 
at  Versailles,  then  ten  years  of  it  is  as  indefensible 
in  principle  as  fifteen.  But  if  perchance  the 
League’s  Commission  should  prove  less  odious 
than  its  enemies  anticipate,  the  fact  will  be  worth 
recording  for  the  sake  of  the  League  as  well  as  of 
the  people  directly  concerned. 

The  government  of  the  Saar  basin  by  a  com¬ 
mission  of  the  League  of  Nations  is  a  very  interest¬ 
ing  experiment  in  international  administration. 
Granted  the  prompt  organization  of  a  League  such 
as  the  treaty  contemplates,  this  experiment  in 
commission  government  has  a  fair  chance  of  suc¬ 
cess,  and  while  the  difficulty  has  been  rendered 
greater  by  delay,  it  is  not  insoluble.  By  its  suc¬ 
cess  or  failure  in  such  matters  the  League  will  be  in 
large  measure  judged  in  western  Europe.  There 
is  reason  to  believe  that  its  effectiveness  depends 
likewise  largely  upon  such  permanent  activities. 
Its  Assembly  will  meet  rarely,  its  Council  not  fre¬ 
quently,  only  its  secretariat  and  its  administrative 
organs  will  be  constantly  at  work,  and  it  is  their 
action  that  will  bring  the  League  home  to  the 
peoples  under  its  immediate  control.  Curiously 
enough,  those  who  were  most  eager  for  the  pro¬ 
gramme  of  an  ambitious  League  were  the  first  to 
criticise  the  creation  of  such  commissions  and  their 
tasks.  But  if  one  of  the  chief  objects  of  such  an  or¬ 
ganization  is  to  promote  world  peace,  surely  the 

1  Keynes,  The  Economic  Consequences  of  the  Peace,  p.  263. 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


15° 

Franco-German  frontier  is  an  important  point  for  it 
to  watch.  And  if  the  League  can  ease  the  strain 
here  by  acting  as  a  sort  of  shock-absorber,  protecting 
at  the  same  time  the  property  rights  of  France  and 
the  personal  rights  of  the  inhabitants,  it  will  serve 
another  interest  no  less  important  than  peace, 
namely  the  cause  of  justice.  If  the  League  is  not 
ready  for  this  test,  it  is  certainly  not  ready  to 
become  a  super-state.  The  super-state  can  wait, 
but  justice  and  peace  are  matters  of  today. 

The  Saar  Commission,  the  Governing  Commis¬ 
sion  for  the  occupied  territory,  the  new  Central 
Rhine  Commission,  all  are  manifestations  of  inter¬ 
national  interest  in  the  Franco-German  frontier, 
and  efforts  to  relieve  the  strain  in  this  area  of  high 
national  tension.  The  demilitarization  of  the  Left 
Bank  and  the  river  and  the  guarantee  of  France 
against  unprovoked  aggression  from  the  east  are 
likewise  plainly  in  the  interest  of  international 
peace.  Even  the  most  definitely  national  measure 
of  all,  the  restoration  of  Alsace-Lorraine,  was  called 
for,  according  to  President  Wilson,  not  only  to  right 
the  wrong  done  by  Prussia  in  1 8 7 1  ?  but  in  order 
that  peace  may  once  more  be  made  secure  in  the 
interest  of  all.”  The  League  of  Nations  in  the 
valley  of  the  Rhine  is  the  symbol  of  a  new  order. 


THE  RHINE  AND  THE  SAAR  151 


Bibliographical  Note 

The  history  of  the  Left  Bank  is  examined  from  various  points 
of  view  by  the  Comite  d’Etudes,  i:  L' Alsace-Lorraine  et  lafronti'ere 
du  Nord-est  (1918).  E.  Babelon,  Le  Rhin  dans  I'histoire  (Paris, 
1916-17),  is  the  fullest  account  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  Rhine 
as  the  historical  frontier  of  France.  See  also  L.  Madelin,  in  the 
Revue  des  deux  Mondes,  December  1,  1918;  the  pamphlets  of 
Babelon,  Driault,  de  Grailly,  Milhaud,  Stienon,  etc.,  issued  in  the 
same  years;  and  the  enquete  published  by  the  Libre  Parole  in  Febru¬ 
ary  1919.  For  a  sane  French  criticism  see  Pfister,  in  Revue  historique, 
cxxvi,  pp.  334-338.  A.  Schulte,  Frankreich  und  das  linke  Rheinufer 
(Stuttgart,  1918),  is  largely  a  critique  of  French  writers. 

For  the  important  period  1794—1814  the  best  German  accounts  are 
C.  T.  Perthes,  Politische  Zustande  und  Personen  in  Deutschland  z ttr 
Zeit  der franzdsichen  Herrschaft  (Bonn,  1862);  and  J.  Hashagen,  Das 
Rheinland  und  die  franzosische  Herrschaft  (Bonn,  1908).  An  excellent 
French  monograph  is  Ph.  Sagnac,  Le  Rhin  francais  pendant  la  Revo¬ 
lution  etl' Empire  (Paris,  1917).  On  Landau  and  Saarlouis,  see  Aulard, 
in  Revue  de  Paris ,  March  15,  I9I9-  J-  Hansen  (e<L),  Die  Rhein- 
provinz  1815-1915  (Bonn,  1917),  is  a  comprehensive  treatment  of 
the  Prussian  period,  with  brief  bibliographies.  For  a  sketch  of 
economic  conditions,  see  F  ves  Guyot,  La  province  rhenane  et  la 
Westphalie  (Paris,  1915).  On  the  Palatinate,  see  H.  Schreibmiiller, 
Bayern  und  die  Pfalz ,  1816-1916  (Kaiserslautern,  1916). 

The  French  side  of  the  negotiations  respecting  the  ‘guarantees’ 
on  the  Left  Bank  is  given  by  A.  Tardieu,  in  L'  Illustration,  Feb¬ 
ruary  14,  1920.  Nothing  has  as  yet  been  published  by  the  British 
or  American  negotiators. 

The  commerce  of  the  Rhine  is  well  studied  by  E.  J.  Clapp,  The 
Navigable  Rhine  (Boston,  1911).  Cf.  P.  Vidal  de  la  Blache,  La  France 
de  I’Est  (Paris,  1917);  and  the  studies  of  de  Martonne  and  Gallois 
in  the  volume  of  the  Comite  d' Etudes.  For  a  Swiss  view  of  the 
problem,  see  V.  S.  Rualens-Marlier,  Le  Rhin  libre  (Paris  and  Neu- 
chatel,  1916). 

In  the  Saar  valley  the  events  of  1814-15  are  narrated  by  A. 
Ruppersberg,  Geschichte  der  Stadt  Saarbrilcken  (Saarbriicken,  1913). 
Bocking’s  correspondence  will  be  found,  with  other  important 
material,  in  A.  Krohn,  Beitrdge  zur  Geschichte  der  Saargegend,  in 
Mitteilungen  des  historischen  V ereins  fur  die  Saargegend,  viii  (1901). 
Cf.  F.  Engerand,  L’ Allemagne  et  le  fer  (Paris,  1916),  ch.  2.  For  a 


152 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


general  sketch,  see  E.  Babelon,  Sarrelouis  et  Sarrebruck  (Paris, 
1918).  Of  the  German  literature  touching  this  part  of  the  treaty 
examples  are  F.  Meinecke,  Geschichte  der  linksrheinischen  Gebiets- 
fragen,  with  maps;  and  the  articles  in  Die  Woche,  March  8,  1919. 

On  the  Saar  coal  field,  see  The  Coal  Resources  of  the  JV orld 
(Toronto,  1913);  the  Atlas  of  Mineral  Resources  published  by  the 
U.  S.  Geological  Survey;  the  study  of  Gallois,  in  Travaux  du  Comite 
d’ Etudes,  i,  and  Annales  de  geographic, ]\Ay  15, 1919;  E.  de  Margerie, 
in  Enquete  sur  les  richesses  minerales  du  Nord-est  de  la  France  et 
des  regions  voisines,  with  maps  (Paris,  1918);  Friedrich  A.  Schmidt, 
Der  Saarkohlenbergbau  in  Lothringen  (Strasburg  diss.,  1914);  and 
the  local  geological  surveys  and  mining  reports.  On  the  growth  of 
manufactures,  see  J.  Kollmann,  Die  Grossindustrie  des  Saargebiets 
(Stuttgart,  1911). 

An  admirable  presentation  of  the  historical  geography  of  the 
Left  Bank  will  be  found  in  the  Geschichtlicher  Atlas  der  Rheinprovinz 
(Bonn,  1898-).  For  the  frontiers  of  1814  and  1815,  see  the 
Atlas  of  the  Comite  d’Etudes. 


II 


V 

POLAND 


Among  all  the  results  of  the  War  and  of  the  Peace 
Treaties,  there  is,  perhaps,  none  which  would  have 
caused  our  forefathers  greater  joy  or  greater 
astonishment  than  the  resurrection  of  Poland. 
It  is  heartening  to  dwell  for  a  moment  on  the  moral 
significance  of  this  great  event,  and  to  recall  what 
the  name  of  Poland  stood  for  down  to  the  time 
when  Bismarck  banished  sentiment  from  politics 
and  attempted  to  exorcise  the  idea  of  an  ‘im¬ 
manent  justice’  in  history. 

To  every  generation  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
down  to  1870  at  least,  Poland  furnished  the 
supreme  example  both  of  what  people  then  called 
‘the  crimes  of  despotism,’  and  of  a  liberty-loving 
nation  struggling  with  unsurpassed  heroism  against 
wellnigh  insuperable  odds.  The  restoration  of 
Poland  signified  something  more  than  the  mere 
revival  of  a  vanished  state:  it  stood  for  the  tri- 
iy  umphant  righting  of  the  greatest  political  wrong 
that  Europe  had  witnessed,  the  vindication  of  the 
principles  of  justice  in  international  relations,  a 
decisive  victory  for  the  cause  of  universal  liberty. 
Hence  the  Polish  cause  called  forth  a  unanimity 
of  sympathy  from  all  civilized  nations  which  no 
other  similar  movement,  not  even  the  Italian  one, 
was  able  to  command.  In  England,  France,  and 
Italy,  liberals,  conservatives,  and  clericals  alike  — - 

153 


154  THE  peace  conference 

men  of  such  diverse  opinions  as  Gladstone  and 
Disraeli,  Montalembert  and  Victor  Hugo,  Mazzini 
and  Pius  IX  —  were  very  much  of  one  mind  with 
respect  to  Poland.  In  France  particularly  every 
success  or  reverse  of  the  Polish  cause  was  greeted 
as  if  it  were  a  triumph  or  a  defeat  for  France  her¬ 
self.  It  is  said  that  after  the  fall  of  Warsaw  in 
in  1831  the  gloom  and  consternation  at  Paris  were 
greater  than  after  Waterloo.  Even  in  Germany 
Bismarck  felt  bound  to  reproach  his  compatriots 
of  the  1848  period  for  being  more  concerned  about 
the  liberty  of  Poland  than  about  their  own  na¬ 
tional  problem.  There  too  people  sang  of  Poland: 

“Dein  Sieg  is  ein  Volkersieg, 

Dein  Krieg  ist  ein  heiliger  Krieg.” 

And  from  America  also  one  might  cite  many  ex¬ 
pressions  of  such  sentiments.  Jefferson  denounced 
the  partition  of  Poland  as  a  “baneful  precedent,” 
a  “crime,”  and  an  “atrocity.”  Henry  Wharton 
called  it  “the  most  flagrant  violation  of  natural 
justice  and  international  law  which  has  occurred 
since  Europe  first  emerged  from  barbarism.” 

But  unanimous  as  was  the  opinion  of  the  public 
regarding  the  justice  of  the  Polish  cause,  among 
statesmen  and  politicians  the  idea  was  scarcely 
less  general  that  from  a  practical  standpoint  that 
cause  was  hopeless.  Lord  Salisbury  in  a  famous 
essay  attempted  to  prove  that  the  restoration  of 
an  independent  Poland  was  “a  mere  chimera.” 
Guizot  in  his  Memoirs  demonstrated  in  his  most 


POLAND 


155 


magistral  fashion  that  the  difficulties  in  the  way 
of  the  Polish  patriots  were  incomparably  greater 
than  those  that  beset  any  other  national  move¬ 
ment:  for  here  it  was  a  question  of  liberating  a 
people,  not  from  one  foreign  oppressor,  but  from 
three,  and  those  three  the  strongest  military 
monarchies  in  Europe,  permanently  united  by 
their  common  interest  in  keeping  their  victim 
enchained.  No  other  power  in  Europe  was  strong 
enough  to  liberate  Poland,  and  it  was  doubtful 
whether  all  the  other  powers  together  were  strong 
enough  to  do  so.  At  all  events,  the  thing  could 
not  be  done  without  a  general  war,  involving  the 
entire  continent  and  upsetting  the  whole  existing 
political  system.  And  as  time  wore  on,  as  one 
insurrection  after  another  failed  and  one  hope  of 
foreign  intervention  after  another  proved  delusive, 
the  Poles  themselves  came  to  pin  their  faith 
chiefly  to  some  such  catastrophic  solution.  Sixty 
or  seventy  years  before  it  came  about,  their  poets 
began  to  prophesy  a  day  of  conflict  such  as  the  world 
had  never  yet  seen,  and  in  that  day  should  Poland 
rise  again  and  triumph.  Mickiewicz,  in  that  - 
“Litany  of  the  Polish  Pilgrim”  which  is  the  most 
poignant  expression  both  of  the  sufferings  and  of 
the  undying  hopes  of  his  people,  inserts  the  prayer: 

“For  a  universal  war  for  the  freedom  of  the  nations, 

We  beseech  Thee,  O  Lord.” 

“The  great  far-off  divine  event,”  thus  dimly 
forecast,  has  been  realized  before  our  eyes.  And 


156  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

however  obdurate  fate  might  hitherto  have  been 
to  the  Poles,  it  must  be  admitted  that  during  the 
World  War  all  things  have  worked  together 
marvellously  to  serve  the  cause  of  Poland.  By  an 
irony  of  fortune,  the  Partitioning  Powers  them¬ 
selves  were  the  first  to  proclaim  the  principle  of 
the  restoration  of  Poland,  although  in  half-hearted 
and  ambiguous  fashion.'.  The  Russian  Revolution 
removed  the  great  obstacle  to  an  honest  treatment 
of  the  Polish  question  by  the  Entente.  Through 
President  Wilson’s  efforts,  the  principle  of  the 
restoration  of  a  united  and  independent  Poland 
was  definitively  and  unequivocally  inscribed  among 
the  war  aims  of  the  Allies;  and  the  collapse  of  the 
Central  Powers  afforded  the  possibility  of  carrying 
out  this  principle  with  a  completeness  which  two 
years  ago  few  friends  of  Poland  could  have  be¬ 
lieved  possible. 

But  granted  that  Poland  was  to  be  restored, 
what  was  Poland?  What  territory  should  it 
include,  and  what  were  its  proper  boundaries? 
As  to  such  questions  it  may  be  doubted  whether 
any  Allied  statesman  or  the  public  in  any  of  the 
Allied  countries  two  years  ago  had  any  very  definite 
ideas.  Italia  Irredenta,  Greater  Greece,  Greater 
Roumania,  Yugo-Slavia,  even  Czecho-Slovakia  ■ 
those  were  concepts  simple  and  familiar  in  com¬ 
parison  with  that  of  Poland  reincarnate.  For 
Poland  had  been  erased  from  the  map  so  long  that 
it  had  come  to  be  regarded  as  a  name,  a  memory,  a 
cause,  rather  than  a  country.  Poland  was  a  ghost 


POLAND 


1 57 


roaming  around  in  the  Sarmatian  plain,  somewhere 
between  Germany  and  Russia.'  But  what  were 
the  limits  of  its  habitat  few  persons  knew,  nor  what 
this  disembodied  spirit  would  look  like  if  clothed 
again  in  flesh  and  blood. 

Moreover  the^problem  was  in  itself  very  difficult. 
Geographically,  Poland  is  one  of  the  hardest  coun¬ 
tries  in  the  world  to  define.  Clearly  marked 
natural  frontiers  are  lacking;  or  else,  when  they 
can  be  discerned,  they  do  not  coincide  with  the 
historic  political  boundaries  or  with  present  eth¬ 
nographic  ones.  The  Carpathians,  for  instance, 
seem  to  offer  an  admirable  natural  frontier  on 
the  south;  nevertheless  the  boundaries  of  the  old 
Polish  state  overlapped  this  mountain  range  for  a 
considerable  distance,  and  so  does  the  Polish 
linguistic  frontier  today*  On  the  north  the  Baltic 
ought  to  form  the  natural  limit  of  Poland;  but 
historically  Poland  had  seldom  held  more  than  a 
narrow  frontage  upon  that  sea,  and  today  the  area 
of  Polish-speaking  population  touches  the  Baltic 
only  along  a  short  stretch  of  coast  just  west  of 
Danzig.  On  the  east  and  west  no  natural  barriers 
whatever  are  to  be  found  in  the  vast  unbroken 
plain  which  stretches  across  northern  Europe  from 
the  Low  Countries  to  the  Urals. 

It  is  true  that  Polish  geographers  are  accustomed 
to  treat  the  whole  region  between  the  Baltic,  the 
Carpathians,  the  Dvina,  and  the  Dnieper  as  one 
country;  to  claim  for  it  a  high  degree  ol  physical 
unity  with  respect  to  its  structure,  climate,  pro- 


1 58  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

ductions,  river  systems,  and  other  features;  and 
to  argue  that  this  entire  area  ought  likewise  to 
form  a  political  unit  —  Poland.  ‘Geographic 
Poland’  thus  defined  is  practically  identical  with 
the  historic  Polish  state  as  it  was  in  its  later  period 
(a  coincidence  which  may  be  explained  as  an  illus¬ 
tration,  either  of  the  effects  of  geographic  laws  on 
history,  or  of  the  workings  of  historic  facts  on  the 
minds  of  geographers).  It  must  be  admitted  that 
Russian  scientists  have  demonstrated  with  equal 
ease  that  nearly  all  of  the  region  in  question  is 
geographically  a  part  of  Russia;  while  the  patriotic 
scholars  of  Kiev  and  Lemberg  have  proved  that 
nature  intended  a  great  part  of  this  same  region 
to  belong  to  neither  Poland  nor  Russia,  but  to 
a  tertium  quid  called  the  Ukraine. 

‘Ethnographic  Poland,’  i.  e.,  the  region  which 
has  a  majority  of  Polish-speaking  population,  is  an 
area  easier  to  define.  It  includes  nearly  the  whole 
of  the  so-called  ‘Congress  Kingdom’  of  Poland 
(that  small  realm  which  was  set  up  by  the  Congress 
of  Vienna  in  1815  and  suppressed  by  Russia  a  few 
years  later);  most  of  the  former  Prussian  province 
of  Posen;  parts  of  the  Prussian  provinces  of  East 
and  West  Prussia  and  Silesia;  most  of  the  duchy 
of  Teschen  in  Austrian  Silesia;  and  the  western 
part  of  Galicia.  Ethnographic  Poland  thus  de¬ 
fined  has  an  area  of  about  82,000  square  miles: 
i.  e.,  it  is  about  as  large  as  Kansas  or  Minnesota,  or 
three-fourths  as  large  as  Italy.  It  had  a  popu¬ 
lation  in  1910  of  twenty  millions.  About  sixty 


POLAND 


lS9 


per  cent  of  it  belonged  to  Russia;  twenty-five 
per  cent  to  Prussia;  fifteen  per  cent  to  Austria. 

In  addition,  there  are  many  Polish  enclaves 
scattered  about  in  eastern  Galicia  and  in  the 
Russian  provinces  to  the  east  ol  the  Congress 
Kingdom.  For  these  adjacent  provinces  on  the 
east,  the  Russian  nationality  statistics  are  so 
grossly  inaccurate  and  fraudulent  that  we  are  left 
in  great  uncertainty  as  to  the  real  ethnographic 
situation  and  the  exact  relative  strength  of  the 
numerous  races1  which  inhabit  this  debatable  region 
(Poles,  Lithuanians,  White  Russians,  Jews,  Ukrain¬ 
ians,  etc.).  There  is  much  reason  to  suppose,  how¬ 
ever,  that  if  ever  an  honest  census  is  taken  here, 
the  eastern  limits  of  the  Polish  ethnographic  area 
will  be  extended  considerably  beyond  the  bound¬ 
aries  of  the  Congress  Kingdom. 

Historically,  the  name  Poland  has  been  applied 
to  a  state  with  very  widely  fluctuating  frontiers. 
The  original  Polish  kingdom,  as  it  grew  up  in  the 
tenth,  eleventh,  and  twelfth  centuries  under  its  first 
dynasty,  the  house  of  the  Piasts,  was  a  compara¬ 
tively  small  state.  It  embraced  the  area  which 
forms  ethnographic  Poland  today,  and  also  the  rest 
of  Silesia  and  Pomerania.  Having  the  Oder  for  a 
part  of  its  western  boundary  and  a  broad  strip  of 
Baltic  coast  line,  Poland  in  its  earliest  period  en¬ 
joyed  better  natural  frontiers  than  it  was  ever  later 
to  possess. 

1  Here  and  in  the  ensuing  chapters  the  word  ‘race  ’  is  used  in  its  popular 
sense,  as  virtually  equivalent  to  ‘people’  or  ‘nation,  rather  than  in  the 
strict  sense  in  which  the  word  is  employed  by  ethnologists.  R-  H.  L. 


160  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


Unfortunately,  during  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth 
centuries  the  realm  was  rent  asunder  by  partitions 
and  civil  wars  among  its  princes,  and  weakened 
by  the  invasions  and  devastations  of  the  Mongols. 
Taking  advantage  of  this  situation,  the  Germanit 
Drang  nach  Osten ,  which  the  Poles  had  hitherto 
arrested  at  the  cost  of  much  hard  fighting,  set  in 
with  redoubled  vigor  and  unparalleled  success. 
It  was  at  this  time  that  Pomerania  and  Silesia 
were  lost  to  Poland,  —  although  in  Upper  Silesia  a 
large  and  compact  Polish  population  has  for  six 
hundred  years  successfully  resisted  that  process 
of  more  or  less  violent  Germanization  to  which  so 
many  of  the  western  Slavs  succumbed.  It  was 
at  this  time  also  that  the  Germans,  led  by  the 
Teutonic  Knights,  succeeded  in  planting  a  colony 
in  Prussia,  thus  cutting  off  Poland  from  the  sea 
and  inaugurating  that  struggle  for  the  mouth  of 
the  Vistula  which  has  gone  on  intermittently  ever 
since. 

When  Poland  in  the  fourteenth  century  regained 
her  unity  and  strength,  it  was  now  too  late  to 
recover  most  of  the  territories  thus  lost:  it  was 
rather  a  question  whether  the  shattered  kingdom 
could  even  defend  what  was  left  to  it  against  the 
Germanic  onrush.  Seeking  resources  and  allies 
for  that  struggle,  Poland  turned  to  the  East.  The 
conquest  of  the  principality  of  Halicz  (Eastern 
Galicia)  in  1340  marked  the  beginning  of  Polish 
encroachments  upon  the  Ukrainian  nationality. 
Still  more  important  was  the  union  effected  in 


POLAND 


1 6 1 

1386  between  Poland  and  Lithuania.  For  the 
Lithuanian  empire,  built  up  with  such  amazing 
rapidity  during  the  fourteenth  century,  included 
nearly  the  whole  area  inhabited  by  the  Ukrainian 
and  White  Russian  races;  it  spread  from  the  Baltic 
to  the  Black  Sea  and  far  beyond  the  Dnieper. 
Through  the  union  concluded  in  1386  there  arose 
a  realm  which  was  to  be  for  several  centuries  the 
strongest  power  in  Eastern  Europe,  and  which 
remained  down  to  the  time  of  the  Partitions  the 
second  or  third  largest  state  on  the  Continent. 

The  most  immediate  result  of  this  union  was 
that  Poland  and  Lithuania  combined  could  renew 
their  traditional  struggle  against  the  Teutonic 
Knights  and  fight  it  through  to  a  successful  con¬ 
clusion.  Not  the  least  of  the  circumstances  that 
contributed  to  their  victory  was  the  fact  that, 
in  the  crisis  of  the  conflict,  the  majority  of  the 
German  nobles  and  cities  of  Prussia  deserted  the 
Knights  and  joined  King  Casimir,  preferring  the 
liberty  which  Poland  could  offer  them  to  the 
tyrannous  rule  of  the  Teutonic  Order.  This  was 
the  second  of  those  voluntary  unions  which  form 
so  striking  and  peculiar  a  feature  of  Polish  history. 
By  the  peace  of  Thorn  (1466),  which  ended  this 
Hundred  Years’  War,  Danzig  and  West  Prussia 
were  incorporated  in  Poland,  although  with  guar¬ 
antees  for  a  large  measure  of  self-government, 
while  East  Prussia  was  left  to  the  vanquished 
Knights  to  be  held  as  a  fief  of  Poland.  Thus  the 
mouth  of  the  Vistula  and  a  frontage  upon  the 


1 62  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


Baltic  had  been  recovered  and  were  to  remain  in 
Polish  possession  for  the  next  three  hundred  years. 
Unfortunately  for  the  peace  of  Europe,  however, 
the  Prussian  question  was  not  completely  liquid¬ 
ated,  as  it  might  have  been  both  in  1466  and  on 
several  later  occasions.  With  a  generosity  or  a 
lack  of  foresight  which  later  historians  have  found 
it  very  hard  to  excuse,  the  Polish  government  in 
1525  permitted  the  Teutonic  Grand  Master, 
Albert  of  Hohenzollern,  to  secularize  East  Prussia 
and  turn  it  into  a  duchy  hereditary  in  his  family, 
though  still  a  fief  of  Poland;  and  on  the  extinction 
of  his  line  in  1618,  Poland  was  induced  to  allow 
the  transfer  of  the  duchy  to  the  Brandenburg 
branch  of  the  family  —  the  first  great  step  towards 
the  building  up  of  that  Hohenzollern  monarchy 
which  was  to  be  the  worst  foe  of  Poland. 

Another  most  important  result  of  the  union  of 
1386  was  the  gradual  fusion  of  Lithuania  with 
Poland.  History  affords  few  stranger  spectacles 
than  this  process  by  which  the  much  larger  and 
originally  stronger  state  voluntarily  submitted  to 
being  assimilated  and  absorbed  by  the  smaller 
one.  That  result  was  due  to  the  attractions  which 
the  more  advanced  civilization  of  Poland  possessed 
for  the  upper  classes  in  the  Lithuanian  realm;  to 
the  desire  of  the  Lithuanian  noblesse  to  secure  the 
liberties  and  privileges  of  the  Polish  nobles;  and 
to  the  remarkable  tact,  cleverness,  and  persever¬ 
ance  with  which  for  centuries  the  Poles  pursued 
the  aim  of  binding  their  somewhat  wayward 


POLAND 


163 

neighbor  irrevocably  to  their  side.  The  union 
between  the  two  states,  originally  based  solely 
on  the  person  of  the  common  ruler,  was  steadily 
strengthened  until  by  the  agreement  of  1569  it 
was  turned  into  a  permanent  organic  union  — 
a  partnership  which  was  to  last  through  good  days 
and  through  evil  until  the  Partitions. 

In  this  combined  state  the  nobility  and  to  a 
large  extent  the  bourgeoisie  of  the  non-Polish 
races  came  spontaneously  to  adopt  the  Polish 
language,  customs,  religion,  nationality  —  became 
in  fact  quite  Polonized.  The  institutions  of 
Lithuania  were  assimilated  in  all  respects  to  those 
of  Poland;  Polish  culture  became  predominant 
from  Kiev  to  Wilno,  from  Livonia  to  the  Car¬ 
pathians  —  in  short,  this  composite  and  originally 
so  heterogeneous  state  became  essentially  a  Polish 
one.  Thus,  by  statesmanship  and  tenacity,  by 
the  higher  culture  they  could  offer  and  the  liber¬ 
ties  they  extended,  the  Polish  race  had  peaceably 
conquered  a  great  empire  in  the  east,  a  realm  twice 
the  size  of  the  modest  Poland  of  the  Piasts;  and 
a  vast  field  was  opened  up  for  colonization  and  the 
extension  of  Polish  nationality. 

The  hundred  years  of  Russian  rule  since  the 
Partitions  and  violent  attempts  at  Russification 
have  by  no  means  destroyed,  although  they  have 
in  part  impaired,  the  results  of  four  centuries  of 
Polonization  in  the  eastern  territories.  Even 
today,  in  Lithuania  proper  and  in  large  areas  of 
White  Russia  and  the  western  Ukraine,  the  coun- 


164  the  peace  conference 

try  gentry  and  the  non-Jewish  population  of  the 
towns  are  predominantly  Polish;  Wilno,  the 
ancient  capital  of  Lithuania,  is  still  almost  as 
much  a  Polish  city  as  Warsaw;  Polish  colonies 
are  thickly  scattered  about  in  the  rural  districts; 
and  socially,  intellectually,  and  economically,  the 
Poles  remain  the  most  important  element  in  the 
population. 

It  would  probably  be  true  to  say  that  the 
average  Pole  has  today,  at  the  back  of  his  head, 
the  feeling  that  his  country  is  not  merely  the 
modest  area  of  ethnographic  Poland,  but  the  whole 
wide  expanse  of  historic  Poland  Poland  as  it 
was  in  1772,  just  before  the  Partitions.  This 
conception  is  based  partly  upon  the  principle  that 
the  Partitions,  as  acts  of  lawless  usurpation,  could 
have  no  legal  validity,  so  that  de  jure  Poland  still 
exists  within  her  frontiers  of  1772;  partly  upon 
the  view  that  the  lands  between  the  Carpathians, 
the  Baltic,  the  Dnieper,  and  the  Dvina  possess  so 
high  a  degree  of  geographical,  economic,  and 
cultural  unity  that  they  deserve  to  be  considered 
as  one  country.  But  above  all,  it  is  a  matter  of 
historic  traditions,  of  time-hallowed  associations 
and  sentiments,  of  deeply  rooted  habits  of  thought. 
It  would  be  difficult  for  Poles  today  to  forget  that 
for  centuries  their  race  has  been  as  much  at  home 
in  Wilno,  Mohylew,  Minsk,  or  Kamieniec,  as  in 
Cracow  or  Warsaw;  and  that  half  ot  the  greatest 
figures  in  Polish  history  have  come  from  these 
eastern  lands  beyond  the  pale  of  ethnographic 


POLAND 


165 

Poland.  Kosciuszko,  their  national  hero,  and 
Mickiewicz,  their  national  poet,  were  both  from 
Lithuania.  The  two  men  at  the  head  of  the  Polish 
state  in  the  past  year,  Pilsudski  and  Paderewski, 
come,  the  one  from  Lithuania,  the  other  from  the 
Ukraine.  For  generations  Poland  has  spent  an 
infinite  amount  of  effort  in  organizing  and  civiliz¬ 
ing  these  eastern  territories  and  in  defending  them 
against  Swedes  and  Muscovites,  Turks  and  Tar¬ 
tars.  Their  churches  are  full  of  the  tombs  of 
Polish  heroes,  and  their  fields  are  soaked  in  Polish 
blood. 

Moreover,  one  cannot  ignore  the  feeling  with 
which  the  present  generation  looks  back  upon  the 
Polish  state  of  the  fourteenth  to  the  eighteenth  cen¬ 
turies.  For  most  outsiders  the  Partitions  have  over¬ 
shadowed  all  the  preceding  period  of  Polish  history. 
Such  observers  have  fastened  their  eyes  too  ex¬ 
clusively  upon  the  deplorable  conditions  into  which 
Poland  had  fallen  just  before  her  dismemberment, 
and  have  concluded  that  her  history  is  chiefly  made 
up  of  a  tissue  of  mistakes,  sins,  and  follies,  interest¬ 
ing  only  as  furnishing  a  terrible  example  of  how  a 
state  ought  not  to  be  governed  and  of  how  badly 
a  people  can  mismanage  its  national  life.  But  the 
Poles,  while  conscious  enough  of  the  mistakes  in 
question,  point  out  that  their  decadent  period  of  a 
hundred  years  or  so  just  before  the  Partitions 
ought  not  to  obscure  or  outweigh  the  record  of  the 
three  glorious  centuries  preceding  the  decline; 
and  in  that  earlier  better  period  they  find  much 


1 66  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

reason  for  cherishing  feelings  of  pride,  veneration, 
and  piety  towards  that  old  republic  which  has  been 
so  much  condemned  and  so  much  misunderstood. 
And  there  is  much  to  justify  such  an  attitude. 

The  old  Polish  state  was  an  experiment  of  a 
highly  original  and  interesting  character.  It  was 
a  republic  both  in  name  and  in  fact,  although 
nominally  it  had  a  king  as  its  first  magistrate.  It 
was  the  largest  and  most  ambitious  experiment  with 
a  republican  form  of  government  that  the  world 
had  seen  since  the  days  of  the  Romans.  More¬ 
over,  it  was  the  first  experiment  on  a  large  scale 
with  a  federal  republic  down  to  the  appearance  of 
the  United  States.  In  the  sixteenth  and  seven¬ 
teenth  centuries  this  republic  was  the  freest  state 
in  Europe,  the  state  in  which  the  greatest  degree  of 
constitutional,  civic,  and  intellectual  liberty  pre¬ 
vailed.  In  an  age  of  religious  persecution  and 
chronic  religious  wars,  Poland  knew  no  such 
troubles;  it  offered  almost  complete  toleration 
and  an  asylum  to  those  fleeing  from  persecution  in 
all  western  lands.  Like  the  United  States  today, 
Poland  was  at  that  time  the  melting-pot  of  Europe, 
the  haven  for  the  poor  and  oppressed  of  all  the 
neighboring  countries  —  Germans,  Jews,  Czechs, 
Magyars,  Armenians,  Tartars,  Russians,  and  others. 
The  complications  of  the  nationality  problem  in 
Poland  today  are  due  in  no  small  measure  to  the 
great  numbers  of  aliens  who  here  found  a  refuge 
from  political  and  religious  persecution.  Finally, 
the  old  republic  represented  an  effort  to  organize 


POLAND 


167 


the  vast  open  plain  between  the  Baltic  and  the 
Black  Sea  —  a  region  containing  so  many  weak 
and  undeveloped  races  and  a  region  so  much 
exposed  to  Germanic  ambitions  on  the  one  side 
and  to  Turco-Tartar  onslaughts  on  the  other  side  — 
into  a  compact  and  powerful  realm,  which  was 
directed  indeed  by  the  strongest  and  most  advanced 
race  within  its  borders  —  the  Poles  —  but  which 
in  its  better  period  allowed  a  genuine  equality  to 
the  other  races  and  extensive  self-government  to 
some  of  them. 

A  great  enthusiasm  for  freedom  in  almost  every 
branch  of  life;  the  principle  of  the  sovereignty  of 
the  nation,  calling  the  citizens  to  participate  in  the 
responsibilities  of  government;  the  conception  of 
the  state  as  not  a  thing  existing  for  itself,  but  as 
an  instrument  serving  the  wellbeing  of  society; 
aversion  to  absolute  monarchy,  standing  armies, 
and  militarism;  disinclination  to  undertake  aggres¬ 
sive  wars,  but  a  remarkable  tendency  to  form 
voluntary  unions  with  neighboring  peoples  — 
such  are  some  of  the  hallmarks  of  the  old  Polish 
state,  which  make  it  stand  out  as  a  unique  excep¬ 
tion  among  the  rapacious  and  militaristic  mon¬ 
archies  of  that  age.  The  Poles  have  been  only  too 
frequently  reproached  for  having  created  such  a 
state  and  for  not  having  imitated  the  institutions 
and  the  spirit  of  their  neighbors;  but  today,  after 
a  war  in  which  Prussia  symbolized  precisely  the 
principles  which  Poland  is  blamed  for  not  having 
adopted,  and  the  Allies  have  stood  for  ideals 


K 


168  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

closely  akin  to  those  of  old  Poland,  it  would  seem 
that  the  time  has  come  for  a  revision  of  our  judg¬ 
ments  about  the  old  Polish  republic. 

For  some  such  reasons  the  Poles  today,  while 
recognizing  the  many  blemishes  that  crept  into  the 
republic,  particularly  in  its  later  period,  are  still 
inclined  to  hold  that  this  Polish-Lithuanian-White 
Russian-Ukrainian-Prussian  federation  —  which 
the  old  republic  really  was  —  represented  a 
political  organization  so  entirely  adapted  to  the 
needs  of  that  part  of  Europe,  so  much  in  the  nature 
of  things,  that  its  violent  disruption  at  the  hands 
of  its  neighbors  must  be  a  matter  of  regret,  and  its 
restoration,  in  part,  at  least,  on  some  twentieth 
century  basis  a  goal  to  be  kept  in  view. 

Since  the  Partitions  the  situation  has,  of  course, 
been  very  substantially  modified.  The  partition¬ 
ing  governments  have  not  labored  in  vain  to  break 
down  or  destroy  Polish  influences  in  many  parts 
of  the  former  republic;  and  in  reoent  decades 
strong  nationalist  movements  have  also  grown  up 
among  two  of  the  races  once  united  to  Poland,  the 
Lithuanians  and  the  Ukrainians.  Hence  no  one 
in  Poland  today  believes  it  possible  or  desirable 
simply  to  incorporate  all  the  lands  of  the  old 
republic  in  the  new  Polish  state.  No  one  pro¬ 
poses  to  compel  the  other  races  which  have  devel¬ 
oped  pronounced  nationalist  movements  to  unite 
with  Poland  against  their  will. 

But  it  is,  I  think,  the  general  desire  of  the  Poles 
to  save  as  much  of  their  ancient  heritage  as  can 


POLAND 


169 

legitimately  be  done.  Most  of  them  seem  to  feel 
that  those  eastern  territories  of  the  old  republic 
in  which  Polish  culture  is  still  predominant,  and 
in  which  there  is  no  indigenous  nationalist  move¬ 
ment,  ought  to  return  to  Poland.  Many  Poles 
hope  that  the  Lithuanians  and  possibly  even  the 
Ukrainians  can  be  won  over  to  voluntarily  ac¬ 
cepting  a  federal  union  with  Poland.  Doubtless 
this  federal  idea  lies  behind  the  demand  recently 
presented  to  the  Bolsheviki  by  the  Polish  govern¬ 
ment:  the  demand  that  Soviet  Russia  should 
renounce  its  claim  to  all  territories  west  of  the  old 
Polish  frontiers  of  1772.  Ever  since  1863,  at  least, 
it  has  been  a  favorite  thesis  of  Polish  democrats 
and  even  Socialists  that  the  only  way  to  effect 
a  solution  of  the  problem  of  the  debatable  eastern 
territories,  in  accordance  both  with  outraged 
legality  and  with  the  principle  of  national  self- 
determination,  is  to  force  Russia  to  renounce  what 
she  usurped  at  the  time  of  the  Partitions,  and  then 
to  leave  the  liberated  populations  free  either  to 
renew  their  historic  federal  union  with  Poland  or 
to  make  any  other  political  arrangements  that 
they  choose. 

There  is  no  need  to  pass  judgment  here  upon 
the  justice  or  expediency  of  such  ideas.  But  they 
cannot  be  ignored;  and  it  certainly  does  not 
advance  us  toward  a  solution  of  these  questions, 
nor  is  it  a  sign  of  insight  or  fair-mindedness,  to 
brand  these  ideas  as  due  simply  to  ‘Polish  im¬ 
perialism’  or  ‘chauvinism  or  megalomania, 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


170 

as  our  Liberal  journals  are  fond  of  doing;  or  to 
castigate  the  Poles  for  claiming  a  single  mile  of 
territory  outside  the  area  where  —  according  to 
the  statistics  prepared  by  governments  hostile  to 
them  - —  there  is  demonstrably  a  Polish-speaking 
majority.  No  nation  with  a  thousand  years  of 
history  behind  it  could  be  expected  to  rise  to  such 
heights  of  self-abnegation. 

The  wide  dispersion  of  the  Polish  race,  the  di¬ 
vergence  between  what  is  ethnically  Polish  today 
and  what  was  historically,  and  still  is  in  part 
culturally,  Polish;  the  lack  of  adequate  data  as  to 
the  ethnic  makeup  and  political  gravitation  of  so 
many  of  the  border  populations;  the  lack  of  clear- 
cut,  natural  frontiers  —  such  are  some  of  the 
difficulties  in  the  way  of  defining  Poland’s  proper 
boundaries. 

J  / 

The  Allied  statesmen  met  at  Paris  already  com¬ 
mitted  to  the  programme  of  the  restoration  of  a 
“ united  and  independent  Poland.”  President  Wil¬ 
son  in  the  Fourteen  Points  had  laid  down  the 
principle  that  “an  independent  Polish  state  should 
be  created  which  should  include  the  territories 
inhabited  by  indisputably  Polish  populations, 
which  should  be  assured  a  free  and  secure  access 
to  the  sea  and  whose  political  and  economic 
independence  and  territorial  integrity  should  be 
lj  guaranteed  by  international  covenant.”  The 
ll  prime  ministers  of  Great  Britain,  France,  and 
Italy,  in  their  declaration  of  June  3,  1918,  had  also 


POLAND 


I7I 

affirmed  that  “the  creation  of  a  united  and  inde¬ 
pendent  Polish  state  with  free  access  to  the  sea 
constitutes  one  of  the  conditions  of  a  solid  and 
just  peace  and  of  the  rule  of  right  in  Europe.” 

It  may  be  that,  when  it  came  to  the  test,  some 
of  the  Allied  statesmen,  out  of  a  desire  to  create  a 
Polish  state  capable  of  becoming  a  useful  ally 
against  Germany,  were  inclined  to  go  beyond  the 
limits  of  these  definitions;  and  that  other  Allied 
statesmen  were  tempted  to  do  somewhat  less  than 
they  had  promised,  for  fear  of  pressing  Germany 
too  hard  and  of  incurring  liabilities  in  the  East 
that  might  be  onerous  in  the  future.  Neverthe¬ 
less,  these  tendencies  very  largely  neutralized  each 
other;  and  the  outcome  has  been  a  settlement  of 
-the  Polish  territorial  problems  which,  in  so  far  as 
it  has  been  completed,  may  be  regarded  as  an 
honest  application  of  the  principles  laid  down  in 
the  Fourteen  Points. 

The  settlement  is  necessarily  incomplete  because 
the  Conference  could  make  definitive  arrangements 
only  with  regard  to  Prussian  and  Austrian  Poland. 
We  were  not  at  war  with  Russia;  the  Conference 
had  neither  the  right  nor  the  wish  to  dispose  of 
Russian  territory  without  Russia’s  consent;  and 
there  was  no  recognized  Russian  government 
with  which  a  voluntary  settlement  could  be 
negotiated.  It  was  possible  to  assume  that  Russia 
had  renounced  all  claims  to  Warsaw  and  to  the 
so-called  Congress  Kingdom,  because  the  govern- 
^  ment  of  Prince  Lvov,  in  March  19179  had  spon- 


i72  the  peace  conference 

taneously  accepted  the  principle  of  “an  inde¬ 
pendent  Polish  state  including  all  regions  with  an 
indisputable  Polish  ethnic  majority.”  But  it  has 
been  impossible  down  to  the  present  to  assign 
definitive  limits  to  this  state  on  the  east,  in  those 
debatable  regions  where  the  ethnographic  situa¬ 
tion  and  the  wishes  of  the  population  are  so  doubt¬ 
ful,  and  where  Polish,  Russian,  Lithuanian,  and 
Ukrainian  claims  all  come  into  collision.1  Hence 
Poland  so  far  has  boundaries  fixed  only  on  the 
west,  northwest,  and  south. 

Of  all  the  parts  of  the  Versailles  Peace  Treaty, 
there  is  perhaps  none  which  it  required  greater 
moral  courage  to  make  or  which  it  may  be  more 
difficult  to  uphold  than  the  Polish-German  settle¬ 
ment.  That  settlement  has,  i  thirrk,  been  not-a 
little  misunderstood;  and  a  certain  section  of  the 
press  in  this  country  and  in  England  has  frequently 
denounced  it  as  one  of  the  great  iniquities  of  the 
Peace  Treaty,  the  spoliation  of  Prussia,  the  sacri¬ 
fice  of  millions  of  innocent  Germans  to  the  Moloch 
of  Polish  imperialism.  It  is,  of  course,  true  that 
the  Germans  do  not  like  it,  and  that  none  of  the 
other  territorial  sacrifices  imposed  upon  them  have 
called  forth  such  indignation  and  rage.  But  could 

1  The  Peace  Conference  appears  to  have  adopted  last  autumn  some  sort 
of  a  provisional  boundary  for  Poland  on  the  east.  As  tar  as  I  understand 
the  matter,  however,  this  boundary  represents  only  a  minimum  line.  What¬ 
ever  lies  to  the  west  of  it  is  indisputably  Polish,  and  henceforth  in  the  opinion 
of  the  Conference  should  belong  unconditionally  to  Poland.  It  is  not  implied, 
however,  that  Poland  may  not  have  valid  claims  to  additional  territories 
farther  east  —  claims  which  can  only  be  settled  by  negotiations  between 
Poland  and  Russia. 


POLAND 


173 


anyone  expect  that  they  would  like  it?  Since  the 
rise  of  Prussia  was  accomplished  mainly  by  the 
spoliation  of  Poland,  could  anyone  hope  to  effect  a 
genuine  restoration  of  Poland  without  taking  a 
great  deal  of  land  away  from  Prussia 

It  is  also  true  that  the  treaty  incorporates  a 
good  many  Germans  into  the  new  Polish  state. 
In  the  provinces  ceded  outright  to  Poland,  the  ratio 
is  about  1,000,000  Germans  to  1,800,000  Poles. 
If  all  the  plebiscites  provided  for  go  against  Ger¬ 
many,  the  total  of  the  territories  which  Poland  will 
have  acquired  from  Prussia  will  contain  about 
2,100,000  Germans  as  against  3,400,000  Poles.1 

Regrettable  as  this  may  be,  the  following 
observations  may  be  made  upon  it.  In  the  first 
place,  if  the  real  facts  were  known,  the  ratio  would 
undoubtedly  be  found  to  be  much  more  favorable 
to  the  Poles.  For  the  figures  just-cited  are  based 
upon  the  Prussian  official  language  statistics;  and 
it  has  been  demonstrated  by  the  most  painstaking 
and  detailed  investigations  —  and  it  is  admitted 
by  honest  people  even  in  Germany  —  that  these 
statistics  are  grossly  inaccurate,  are  in  fact  deliber¬ 
ately  falsified  for  the  purpose  of  making  it  appear 
that  Prussia’s  Germanizing  policy  in  her  ‘East¬ 
ern  Marches’  has  been  more  successful  than  is 
actually  the  case.  Some  idea  of  the  discrepancy 
between  fact  and  fiction  may  be  gathered  by 
comparing  these  linguistic  statistics  with  the 

1  If  the  territory  of  the  Free  City  of  Danzig  be  included  in  this.reckoning, 
the  number  of  Germans  that  may  be  separated  from  the  Empire  would  rise 
to  2,400,000  in  round  numbers. 


174 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


Prussian  school  census,  which  is  equally  official 
but  less  distorted  for  political  purposes.  One 
finds,  for  instance,  such  glaring  contradictions  as 
that  the  circle  of  Lyck  contains  only  51%  of  Poles 
according  to  the  linguistic  census,  but  79 %  accord¬ 
ing  to  the  school  census;  Sensburg  has  49%  of 
Poles  according  to  the  linguistic  census,  but  78 % 
according  to  the  school  census;  Lotzen  35%  of 
Poles  according  to  the  linguistic  census,  but  70% 
according  to  the  school  census.  The  Peace  Con¬ 
ference,  although  knowing  the  character  of  the 
Prussian  language  statistics,  nevertheless  adopted 
them  as  its  criterion  in  order  to  be  scrupulously 
fair  to  the  Germans;  but  the  facts  just  cited  sug¬ 
gest  that  the  real  number  of  Germans  transferred 
to  Poland  is  far  less  than  Prussian-made  statistics 
would  indicate.  \ 

Furthermore,  a  large  number  of  these  Germans 
have,  so  to  speak,  no  right  to  be  there.  Everyone 
knows  with  what  infinite  patience,  vast  expendi¬ 
ture  of  money  and  effort,  and  perfect  indifference 
to  justice  or  morality,  the  Prussian  government 
has  worked  to  fill  its  eastern  provinces  with  Ger¬ 
mans  and  to  dispossess  the  Poles  of  a  land  which 
has  been  theirs  for  a  thousand  years.  The  chef 
d’oeuvre  of  this  policy  has  been  the  work  of  the 
Imperial  Colonization  Commission,  which  in  the 
last  thirty  years  has  spent  over  500,000,000  marks 
in  buying  up  property  in  the  eastern  provinces 
and  settling  German  colonists  upon  it.  Over 
100,000  Germans  have  been  brought  in  in  this  way. 


POLAND 


i?5 


Half  a  dozen  other  official  and  semi-official  organ¬ 
izations  have  been  at  work  for  the  same  purpose. 
In  addition,  the  host  of  government  functionaries 
and  servants  in  these  provinces,  the  administra¬ 
tive,  judicial,  financial,  railroad,  telegraph,  postal, 
forest,  school  officials  and  employees,  have  been 
recruited  almost  exclusively  from  the  Germans, 
and  very  largely  from  Germans  brought  in  from  the 
west  by  the  promise  of  higher  pay  and  other  special 
privileges.  It  has  been  estimated  that  in  the  vari¬ 
ous  districts  of  the  east,  from  one-fifth  to  one-third 
^of  the  German  population  is  made  up  oi  those 
dependent  for  their  livelihood  upon  the  state  — 
people  brought  in  from  outside  or  maintained  for 
the  sole  purpose  of  impressing  an  artificial  German 
character  upon  a  Polish  land.  There  is  little  reason 
to  grieve  very  much  over  the  prospect  of  seeing  this 
more  or  less  parasitical  population  faced  with  the 
alternative  of  submitting  to  the  rule  of  the  major¬ 
ity  among  which  they  live  or  else  of  returning  to 
where  they  came  from. 

It  is  true,  of  course,  that  after  making  all  such 
deductions,  there  will  still  remain  in  the  provinces 
that  have  been  or  may  be  transferred  to  Poland, 
a  much  larger  number  of  Germans  than  one  would 
like  to  find  there.  But  this  is  unavoidable.  For 
centuries  these  territories  have  had  a  very  mixed 
population.  Old  Poland  opened  her  frontiers 
freely  to  German  settlers,  refraining  from  any 
effort  to  denationalize  them,  extending  to  them  a 
tolerance,  a  liberality,'  a  wide  measure  of  local 


176  the  peace  conference 

self-government  which  presents  the  most  striking 
contrast  to  the  treatment  the  Poles  have  received 
since  the  Germans  have  become  the  masters.  As 
result  of  these  earlier  centuries,  as  well  as  of  the 
work  which  the  Prussian  government  has  since 
carried  on,  the  two  races  are  everywhere  inter¬ 
mingled.  There  are  many  German  enclaves,  towns 
and  small  districts  of  German  majority  embedded 
in  the  predominantly  Polish  areas.  But  how  these 
ubiquitous  German  minorities  and  these  isolated 
islands  of  German  majority  can  be  left  to  Germany 
without  leaving  a  much  larger  number  of  Poles 
out  of  Poland,  it  is  not  easy  to  see.  No  large  com¬ 
pact  blocks  of  German  population  have  been 
annexed  to  Poland.  No  territories  have  been 
awarded  to  Poland  simply  on  the  basis  of  historic 
rights.  \What  the  Peace  Conference  attempted  to 
do  was  to  disentangle  two  inextricably  interlocked 
races,  as  far  as  that  could  be  done;  to  define  what 
might  be  considered  —  in  spite  of  numerous  Ger¬ 
man  enclaves  —  the  area  of  Polish  majorities; 
and  then  to  make  the  political  boundary  coincide 
with  this  ethnographic  one,  as  far  as  was  practi¬ 
cable.  Since  this  ethnographic  frontier  presents 
an  extraordinarily  jagged  and  tortuous  contour, 
some  deviations  from  it  had  to  be  made  in  order  to 
obtain  a  relatively  straight  and  simple  boundary; 
and  naturally  the  effort  was  also  made  to  avoid 
cutting  railway  lines  too  frequently.  In  spite  of 
much  that  has  been  said,  in  the  final  delimitation 
of  the  frontier  strategic  interests  were  practically 
left  out  of  consideration. 


POLAND 


177 


But  what  was  most  characteristic  of  the  desire  ^ 
to  be  completely  lair  to  the  Germans  is  the  fact 
that  two  large  areas  of  incontestably  Polish  major¬ 
ity  were  not  transferred  to  Poland,  as  they  might 
well  have  been  according  to  the  Fourteen  Points. 
Since  there  was  a  possibility  of  doubt  as  to  the 
wishes  of  their  populations,  their  late  has  been  left 

to  popular  vote.  " 

The  settlement  is,  on  the  whole,  a  pretty  compli¬ 
cated  one,  too  complicated  perhaps.  It  deals  in 
varying  ways  with  six  territories,  each  of  which 
has  its  peculiarities  and  special  problems,  and  each 
of  which,  for  the  sake  of  clearness,  must  be  dis¬ 
cussed  separately. 

Five-sixths  of  the  old  province  of  Posen  has 
been  ceded  outright  to  Poland.  Even  the  German 
delegates  at  Versailles  did  not  very  seriously 
contest  the  justice  of  this  award.  Posen  was  the 
cradle  of  the  Polish  race  and  of  the  Polish  state; 
it  belonged  to  Poland  uninterruptedly  down  to 
the  Second  Partition  in  17935  ^  ^as  alwaYs  re_ 
tained  a  strong  Polish  majority;  and  that  majority 
has  furnished  the  most  conclusive  proof  ot  its 
Polish  patriotism  and  its  detestation  of  German 
rule.  Posen  is  entirely  an  agricultural  province, 
the  loss  of  which  will  reduce  Germany’s  ability  to 
feed  herself  from  her  own  resources,  but  will  not 
otherwise  cripple  her  seriously.  The  acquisition 
of  the  province  will  be  a  great  gain  to  Poland, 
however,  since  the  Posnanian  Poles,  in  the  struggle 
which  they  have  carried  on  for  thirty  years  against 


178  the  peace  conference 

the  Prussian  government,  have  learned  to  equal 
or  surpass  the  Germans  in  the  qualities  of  industry, 
thrift,  organizing  ability,  and  general  economic 
efficiency  —  qualities  which  are  not  too  well 
developed  among  the  other  Poles. 

In  West  .  Prussia  the  problem  was  much  less 
simple.  West  Prussia  holds  a  position  of  such 
pivotal  importance  that  it  has  been  for  six  hundred 
years  a  battleground  between  German  and  Slav. 
Polish  down  to  the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth 
century;  seized  by  the  Teutonic  Knights  in  1308; 
voluntarily  reunited  to  Poland  in  1454;  Polish 
down  to  1772;  annexed  by  Frederick  the  Great 
at  the  time  of  the  First  Partition  —  such  is  the 
outline  of  its  history.  For  centuries  the  province 
has  been  the  meeting-place,  the  point  of  collision, 
between  two  streams  of  colonization  —  the  Ger¬ 
man  current  from  west  to  east  along  the  coast  of 
the  Baltic,  and  the  Polish  current  from  south  to 
north  down  the  valley  of  the  Vistula.  As  a  result, 
the  ethnographic  map  of  West  Prussia  is  almost  as 
intricate  a  mosaic  as  that  of  Macedonia.  Never¬ 
theless,  the  general  result  is  clear.  West  Prussia 
falls  into  three  zones.  The  zone  along  the  western 
border  is  predominantly  German;  and  so  is  the 
northeasterly  part,  on  the  right  bank  of  the 
Vistula.  But  the  central  zone  and  the  southeast 
are  predominantly  Polish.  There  thus  exists  to 
the  west  of  the  Vistula  an  unbroken  corridor  of 
Polish-speaking  territory  extending  through  to 
the  Baltic.  In  the  collision  referred  to  between 


POLAND 


179 


the  two  streams  of  colonization,  the  south  to 
north  movement  has  been  the  stronger.  The 
Germans  have  not  succeeded  in  bridging  the  gap 
between  the  old  German  lands  of  the  west  and  the 
isolated  German  colony  in  East  Prussia.  This  is 
the  first  and  principal  reason  for  the  establish¬ 
ment  of  the  much  discussed  Polish  couloir  to  the 
Baltic. 

Poland  needs  territorial  access  to  the  sea  —  of 
that  there  can  be  no  question.  But  the  Peace 
Conference  would  probably  not  have  granted  her 
this  wish,  had  it  not  been  justified  in  doing  so  on 
ethnographic  grounds.  The  Conference  did  not 
invent  the  couloir:  that  already  existed  and  is 
written  plain  on  every  honest  linguistic  map  of 
this  region.  The  Conference  merely  recognized 
the  fact,  and  drew  the  necessary  conclusion  by 
awarding  to  Poland  that  middle  zone  of  West 
Prussia,  which  forms  a  compact,  though  rather 
narrow,  corridor  through  to  the  Baltic. 

There  has  been  much  criticism  of  this  decision, 
on  the  ground  that  East  Prussia,  most  of  which 
will  still  remain  to  Germany,  is  thereby  separated 
from  the  rest  of  the  Fatherland  —  an  anomalous 
and  unjust  arrangement,  it  is  said,  which  the 
Germans  can  never  be  expected  to  put  up  with. 
Certainly  it  would  be  an  undesirable  arrangement 
if  there  were  any  just  way  of  avoiding  it.  But  it 
may  be  remarked,  in  the  first  place,  that  this  is 
the  only  solution  of  the  problem  that  corresponds 
to  the  ethnographic  situation,  to  the  unhappy  way 


180  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

in  which  Germans  and  Poles  have  come  to  be 
distributed  here  as  the  result  of  centuries  of  con¬ 
flict.  This  solution  merely  restores  the  territorial 
situation  that  existed  for  three  hundred  years 
down  to  the  time  of  the  First  Partition.  More¬ 
over,  the  continuity  of  German  territory  cannot  be 
maintained  without  denying  Poland  access  to  the 
sea.  Either  East  Prussia  will  have  to  trade  with 
Germany  across  Polish  territory  or  Poland  will 
have  to  trade  with  the  outside  world  across  Ger¬ 
man  territory.  It  is  a  question  of  balancing  the 
respective  interests  at  stake.  And  who  will  argue 
that  the  right  of  the  million  and  a  half  Germans  in 
East  Prussia 1  to  have  a  land  connection  with 
Germany  (they  will  always  have  easy  communi¬ 
cation  by  sea)  outweighs  the  right  of  over  twenty 
million  Poles  in  the  hinterland  to  a  secure  access 
to  the  Baltic?  Clearly  the  Polish  interest  in¬ 
volved  is  incomparably  the  greater  and  ought  to 
take  precedence.  Every  effort  has  been  made  in 
the  Peace  Treaty  to  assure  untrammeled  railway 
and  trade  communications  between  Germany  and 
East  Prussia  across  the  intervening  Polish  terri¬ 
tory.  Further  than  that  its  seems  unnecessary 
to  go  to  secure  the  interests  of  the  rather  small, 
detached  German  colony  around  Konigsberg. 

The  question  of  the  Polish  corridor  is  closely 
bound  up  with  the  thorny  problem  of  Danzig. 

1  This  figure  refers  to  that  part  of  East  Prussia  which  will  unquestionably 
remain  to  Germany.  If  the  Mazurian  and  Marienwerder  plebiscite  areas 
vote  to  remain  with  Germany,  the  number  of  Germans  cut  ofF  from  the 
Reich  by  the  Polish  couloir  will  be  a  little  over  2,000,000. 


POLAND 


1 8 1 


Historically  Danzig  has  in  the  main  passed 
through  the  same  vicissitudes  as  West  Prussia,  of 
which  it  is  the  capital.  It  is  an  old  Polish  city, 
transformed  into  a  German-speaking  one  since 
the  fourteenth  century.  Nevertheless,  German 
Danzig  distinguished  itself  in  the  past  by  its  loyalty 
to  Poland.  It  took  the  lead  and  fought  gallantly  to 
effect  the  reunion  of  West  Prussia  with  Poland  in 
the  fifteenth  century.  During  the  ensuing  period  of 
Polish  rule,  it  was  prosperous  and  contented.  The 
whole  sea-borne  trade  of  Poland  passed  through 
its  hands;  it  ranked  as  wellnigh  the  first  port  of 
the  Baltic;  and  the  wide  measure  of  autonomy 
which  Poland  allowed  it  drew  Danzig  to  her  by 
affection  as  well  as  by  interest.  It  was  not  with¬ 
out  staunch  resistance  that  the  city  surrendered  to 
the  Prussian  usurpation  in  1793,  and  as  late  as  1813 
the  City  Council  besought  the  Powers  of  Europe  to 
reunite  Danzig  to  Poland  and  not  to  incorporate 
it  with  Prussia. 

Today  the  problem  of  Danzig  revolves  around 
two  essential  facts.  The  city  itself  with  a  popula¬ 
tion  of  about  170,000,  is  overwhelmingly  German 
(over  90%),  and  so  is  the  small  district  immediately 
surrounding  it.1  On  the  other  hand,  economically 
and  geographically,  Danzig  belongs  to  Poland. 

The  city  derives  its  importance  almost  wholly 
from  the  fact  that  it  is  the  natural  port  of  the 

1  The  total  population  of  the  city  and  its  district  in  1910  was  324,000, 
of  which  number  only  16,000  were  entered  in  the  census  as  having  Polish  as 
their  ‘mother  tongue.’ 


1 82  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

Vistula  valley:  it  is  to  that  river  what  Mar¬ 
seilles  is  to  the  Rhone  or  Alexandria  to  the  Nile.1 
Supremely  prosperous  during  the  best  days  of 
its  union  with  Poland,  Danzig  has  decayed  and 
stagnated  under  Prussian  rule.  It  has  sunk  to  be  a 
third-rate  port,  far  outdistanced  by  Hamburg, 
Bremen,  Stettin,  or  even  Konigsberg.  It  is  doubt¬ 
ful  whether  it  would  have  any  future  at  all,  if  it 
were  left  as  a  German  city,  almost  surrounded  by 
Polish  territory  and  cut  off  by  political  and  eco¬ 
nomic  barriers  from  the  hinterland  on  which  its 
life  depends. 

For  Poland  this  is  almost  the  most  crucial  of  all 
questions.  Poland  is  essentially  the  valley  of  the 
Vistula.  That  river  has  always  been  the  main 
artery  of  the  country’s  economic  life,  and  scarcely 
any  other  European  nation  has  its  settlements 
concentrated  in  one  river  valley  in  like  degree. 
The  Vistula  is  a  magnificent  river  system,  a  basin 
of  60,000  square  miles  with  3100  miles  of  naviga¬ 
ble  streams,  and  a  possibility  of  opening  good  and 
easy  connections  with  the  Dnieper,  the  Dniester, 
and  the  Niemen  —  i.  e.,  with  half  of  eastern  Europe. 
But  the  utilization  and  proper  development  of  this 
unique  system  of  transcontinental  waterways  by 
Poland  depends  on  her  control  of  the  great  port  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Vistula.  Moreover,  Danzig  is  not 
only  the  natural  outlet  to  the  sea  for  this  whole 
country,  but  it  is  the  only  outlet  that  is  in  any  sense 

1  I  owe  the  comparison  to  Mr.  L.  B.  Namier’s  excellent  article  on  “Po¬ 
land’s  Outlet  to  the  Sea,”  in  The  Nineteenth  Century ,  \  ol.  Si  (i),  feb. 


POLAND 


183 

available.  The  narrow  strip  of  coast  which  Poland 
has  received  to  the  west  of  Danzig  contains  no  real 
ports,  and  it  is  doubtful  whether  any  satisfactory 
port  can  be  developed  there. 

It  has,  of  course,  been  suggested  that  even  if 
Danzig  were  left  Germany,  Poland  could  enjoy 
free  use  of  the  port  by  special  commercial  treaties 
guaranteed  by  the  League  of  Nations.  But  on 
this  very  question  Poland  has  had  such  sad  experi¬ 
ences  of  the  way  in  which  Germany  keeps  treaties 
that  she  cannot  rely  on  such  arrangements.)  And 
whatever  may  be  one’s  hopes  as  to  the  League  of 
Nations,  in  the  present  state  of  the  League  it  is 
scarcely  fair  to  ask  a  nation  to  stake  its  most  vital 
interests  upon  the  efficiency  of  such  a  guarantee. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  Danzig  question  led  to 
something  of  a  contest  at  Paris.  On  the  one  hand, 
Poland  had  received  the  promise  of  a  free  and 
secure  access  to  the  sea;  on  the  other  hand,  it  was 
difficult  to  transfer  to  her  outright  the  Danzig 
territory  with  a  solid  population  of  about  300,000 
Germans.  Finally  a  compromise  was  agreed  upon, 
a  solution  intended  to  safeguard  both  the  national 
rights  of  the  Danzig  Germans  and  the  economic 
interests  of  Poland. 

According  to  the  new  arrangement,  Danzig  and 
its  territory  are  to  be  entirely  separated  from 
Germany  and  to  be  organized  as  a  free  city  under 
the  protection  of  the  League  of  Nations.  In 
economic  matters,  however,  this  small  republic 
will  be  very  closely  connected  with  Poland  through 


i84  the  peace  conference 

a  treaty  to  be  drawn  up  by  the  Allied  and  Asso¬ 
ciated  Powers.  This  treaty  will  have  for  its 
object  to  include  the  Free  City  within  the  Polish 
customs  area,  and  to  insure  to  Poland  complete 
control  over  the  railways,  posts,  telegraph  lines, 
waterways,  and  port  facilities  of  Danzig. 

If  this  arrangement  is  honestly  put  into  practice, 
it  will  restore  substantially  the  relation  _which 
existed  so  happily  between  Poland  and  Danzig 
from  the  fifteenth  to  the  eighteenth  centuries,  for 
Danzig  was  at  that  time  virtually  a  free  city  under 
the  protectorate  of  Poland?'  This  historical  prece¬ 
dent  has  helped  a  good  deal  to  reconcile  the  Poles  to 
the  compromise,  and  there  is  reason  to  think  that  a 
considerable  section  of  the  Danzigers  are  rather 
well  satisfied  with  it. 

Posen,  part  of  West  Prussia,  and  the  Danzig 
territory  are  the  only  regions  which  Germany  has 
definitively  lost  to  Poland.  There  are,  however, 
three  other  territories  which  Germany  may  lose, 
since  in  all  of  them  plebiscites  are  to  be  held  to 
determine  whether  their  inhabitants  wish  to  re¬ 
main  with  Germany  pr  to  be  united  with  Poland. 

The  first  of  these  plebiscite  areas  is  the  MarienV 
werder  district  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Vistula 
in  the  northeastern  corner  of  West  Prussia.  This 
small  territory  is  of  much  importance  to  Poland, 
since  it  borders  upon  the  Vistula  and,  if  left  in 
German  hands,  might  menace  the  security  of 
communications  along  that  river.  Moreover,  the 
most  direct  and  convenient  railway  from  Danzig 


POLAND 


185 


to  Warsaw  runs  across  this  territory.  Neverthe¬ 
less,  since  the  district  contained  in  1910  about 
114,000  Germans  as  against  only  24,000  Poles, 
the  Conference  decided  to  refer  its  fate  to  a 
plebiscite.  Apart  from  Danzig,  this  is  the  only 
considerable  district  with  a  German-speaking  ma¬ 
jority  which  may  be  taken  away  from  Germany. 

A  plebiscite  is  also  to  be  held  in  the  southern 
zone  of  the  province  of  East  Prussia,  in  the  terri¬ 
tory  commonly  known  as  Mazuria.  This  secluded 
region  of  forests,  lakes,  and  marshes  has  a  decided 
majority  of  Polish-speaking  population.  The  an¬ 
cestors  of  these  Poles  were  called  into  the  country 
in  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  centuries  by  the 
Teutonic  Knights  to  replace  the  original  Prussian 
population, 'which  the  Knights  had  largely  exter¬ 
minated.  The  Mazurian  Poles  have  remained  po¬ 
litically  separated  from  the  rest  of  their  nation  for 
six  hundred  years;  since  the  sixteenth  century  they 
have  become  Protestants,  while  almost  all  the  other 
Poles  are  Catholics;  and  because  of  these  facts  and 
also  because  of  their  economic,  intellectual,  and 
spiritual  dependence  on  their  German  landlords, 
teachers,  and  pastors,  the  Mazurian  Poles  have 
long  been  completely  estranged  from  the  rest  of  the 
Polish  nation.  They  have  on  the  whole  shown  no 
very  marked  signs  of  Polish  national  consciousness, 
and  there  was  room  to  doubt  whether  they  desired 
reunion  with  Poland.  Hence,  a  plebiscite  was 
clearly-  in  order  here. 

The  third  plebiscite  area  is  in  Upper  Silesia. 


1 86  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


In  this  case,  likewise,  there  was  an  indisputable 
Polish-speaking  majority:  65.6%  of  Poles  for  the 
region  as  a  whole,  and  in  many  districts  80  or 
even  90%.  So  strong  was  the  Polish  claim  that 
the  original  decision  of  the  Peace  Conference  was 
to  award  Upper  Silesia  to  Poland  outright.  It 
is  well  known,  however,  that,  as  a  result  of  the 
vehement  objections  raised  by  the  German  delega¬ 
tion  at  Versailles,  this  decision  was  ultimately 
modified.  The  territory  in  question  was  extraor¬ 
dinarily  rich  in  minerals  and  important  industri¬ 
ally.  In  the  period  just  before  the  outbreak  of 
the  War,  its  coal  production  was  44,000,000  tons 
a  year  - —  three  times  as  great  as  that  of  the  Saar 
basin,  23%  of  Germany’s  total  output  of  coal. 
It  also  furnished  34%  of  her  production  of  lead 
ore;  and  81%  of  her  zinc.  The  loss  of  so  im¬ 
mensely  valuable  a  territory  would  mean  a  severe 
blow  to  the  economical  life,  as  well  as  to  the  pride, 
of  the  German  people.  It  was  a  sacrifice  that 
could  be  fairly  demanded  only  if  the  majority  of 
the  population  in  Upper  Silesia  clearly  and  un¬ 
mistakably  desired  union  with  Poland.  As  to 
the  wishes  of  that  population,  the  evidence  avail¬ 
able  was  strongly  in  favor  of  Polish  claims,  but  it 
was  not  absolutely  conclusive.  Hence  the  Con¬ 
ference  finally  resolved  that  in  so  grave  a  matter 
the  decision  must  be  left  in  the  hands  of  the  people 
themselves  through  a  plebiscite. 

To  sum  up,  Germany  has  definitively  lost  about 
17,500  square  miles  of  territory  and  about  2,900,000 


POLAND 


187 

subjects.  If  all  the  plebiscites  go  against  her,  her 
total  losses  in  the  east  will  amount  to  an  area  of 
about  27,500  square  miles  and  a  total  population 
of  nearly  5,800,000.  In  other  words,  she  risks 
losing  in  the  east  an  area  five  times  as  great  as 
Alsace-Lorraine,  and  a  population  three  times  as 
great. 

"There  is  no  denying  that  this  is  serious  business. 
The  Powers  who  have  decreed  and  sponsored  these 
arrangements  have  thereby  assumed  responsi¬ 
bilities  and  liabilities,  the  gravity  of  which  ought 
not  to  be  overlooked  or  minimized.  There  is  a 
common  belief  in  Germany  (though  a  wrong  one) 
that  Prussia  has  never  permanently  lost  any  terri¬ 
tory  she  has  once  held,  and  that  after  every  Jena 
comes  a  Leipzig  or  a  Waterloo.  And  what  must  be 
the  feeling  of  true-blue  Prussians  over  the  loss  of 
these  ‘Eastern  Marches’  on  the  maintenance  of 
which,  Prince  von  Bulow  was  wont  to  declare,  “  the 
fate  of  Prussia,  of  the  empire,  nay  of  the  whole 
German  nation  depends”?  The  resulting  dangers 
to  the  peace  of  Europe  are  obvious.  But  it  should 
not  be  imagined  that  these  dangers  would  have  been 
avoided,  or  even  much  reduced,  if  the  Allies  had 
demanded  less  for  Poland.  Without  a  far  greater 
change  in  German  mentality  than  we  have  had  any 
evidence  of  as  yet,  any  territorial  cessions  at  all  in 
favor  of  the  despised  Poles  were  sure  to  be  fiercely  re¬ 
sented.  Even  Professor  Delbriick,  one  of  the  most 
moderate  of  Prussian  politicians,  declared  years 
ago,  “All  Germany  would  have  to  be  hewn  in 


1 88 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


pieces  before  we  would  allow  even  Posen  to  be 
taken  away  from  us.”  The  Paris  Conference  was 
always  faced  by  the  dilemma  that  ‘the  peace  of 
reconciliation,’  of  which  the  Germans  talked,  would 
have  been  one  that  left  Germany  intact,  unpun¬ 
ished,  and  impenitent;  while  the  peace  of  justice, 
demanded  by  the  principles  which  the  Allies  had 
proclaimed,  raised  the  vision  of  an  embittered 
Germany  thirsting  and  plotting  for  revenge) 

At  all  events,  one  may  rejoice  in  the  fact  that, 
in  spite  of  the  risks  involved,  the  Peace  Conference 
had  the  courage  to  carry  through  a  Polish-German 
settlement  based  on  principle  and  not  upon  expedi¬ 
ency  or  selfish  convenience,  a  settlement  which,  in 
Mr.  Lloyd  George’s  phrase,  ‘‘leaves  Germany  no 
just  grievance,”  and  which  does  right  a  great  wrong 
from  which  the  conscience  of  Europe  has  suffered 
for  one  hundred  and  fifty  years. 

Turning  to  the  territories  that  belonged  to  the 
late  Hapsburg  monarchy,  we  may  note  that  Poland 
has  had  an  unhappy  dispute  with  Czecho-Slovakia 
over  the  duchy  of  Teschen  and  the  small  territories 
of  Zips  and  Arva,  which  lie  south  of  the  Carpa¬ 
thians.  After  two  weeks  of  fighting  and  nine 
months  of  negotiation,  it  has  now  been  settled  that 
the  populations  of  these  districts  are  to  decide  by 
plebiscite  to  which  of  the  two  new  republics  they 
wish  to  belong. 

Much  more  serious  and  difficult  has  been  the 
problem  presented  by  Galicia.  The  western  part 


POLAND 


189 

of  this  province  was  from  the  earliest  times  an 
integral  part  of  Poland  and  is  overwhelmingly 
Polish  today.  There  is  no  real  question  here, 
and  the  possession  of  Western  Galicia  has  already 
been  assured  to  Poland.  But  with  the  remaining 
two-thirds  of  the  province,  the  case  is  altogether 
different. 

Eastern  Galicia  was  originally  settled  by  a  popu¬ 
lation  historically  known,  and  still  commonly 
known  as  Ruthenians.  They  are  a  branch  of  that 
Little  Russian  race  for  which  the  general  name 
Ukrainian  is  now  coming  into  use.  After  belong¬ 
ing  to  various  Ruthenian  principalities  in  the 
early  middle  ages,  Eastern  Galicia  was  conquered 
by  Poland  in  1340;  it  remained  a  part  of  the  Polish 
state  down  to  1772;  and  even  under  the  Austrian 
rule  the  Poles  have  continued  to  be  the  domi¬ 
nant  nation.  Today  the  ethnographic  situation  in 
Eastern  Galicia  may  be  summarized  by  saying  that 
the  Ruthenians  make  up  59%  of  the  total  popula¬ 
tion,  the  Poles  27%,  and  the  Jews  13%.  Although 
usually  in  the  minority,  the  Poles  are  found  in  large 
numbers  in  almost  every  part  of  the  territory. 
Lemberg,  the  capital  of  the  province,  and  most  of 
the  other  large  towns  are  mainly  Polish  and  Jewish 
in  population;  and  there  are  several  large  rural  dis¬ 
tricts  of  Polish-speaking  majority. 

Socially  and  intellectually  there  is  a  striking 
contrast  between  the  two  rival  races.  The 
Ruthenians  are  almost  entirely  a  peasant  popula¬ 
tion,  with  only  a  small  educated  class  of  priests. 


1 9o  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

lawyers,  doctors,  etc.  The  Poles  are  fairly  evenly 
and  normally  divided  among  the  various  occupa¬ 
tions  and  social  classes.  The  difference  may  be 
shown  by  the  fact  that  about  91%  of  the  Ruthenian 
population  is  dependent  upon  agriculture  for  a 
living,  and  only  44%  of  the  Poles;  39%  of  the 
Poles  live  by  commerce  and  industry,  but  only 
7%  of  the  Ruthenians;  17%  of  the  Poles  are 
engaged  in  the  liberal  professions,  but  only  1%  of 
the  Ruthenians;  62%  of  the  Ruthenians  are 
illiterate,  but  only  23%  of  the  Poles.  In  other 
words,  the  Poles  are  socially,  economically,  and 
intellectually  the  strongest  element  in  the  country, 
although  in  numbers  they  are  considerably  inferior 
to  their  rivals. 

During  the  five  or  six  centuries  in  which  the  two 
races  have  lived  side  by  side,  their  relations  have 
on  the  whole  been  relatively  satisfactory  and 
amicable.  To  a  large  extent  they  are  so  still, 
whenever  the  politicians  do  not  intervene,  as  is 
shown,  for  instance,  by  the  high  percentage  of 
mixed  marriages.  In  the  nineteenth  century,  how¬ 
ever,  a  nationalist  movement  grew  up  among  the 
Ruthenians,  which  assumed  a  marked  anti-Polish 
tendency  and  which  has  led  to  the  rather  bitter 
racial  feud  that  has  raged  in  Eastern  Galicia  in 
the  past  thirty  years.  It  is  likely  that  this  con¬ 
test  would  never  have  assumed  so  fierce  a  charac¬ 
ter  had  it  not  been  for  the  insidious  activities  of 
the  Austrian  government,  which  lost  no  oppor¬ 
tunity  to  stir  up  the  two  races  against  each  other, 


POLAND 


I9I 

aiding  now  one  and  then  the  other  in  accordance 
with  the  traditional  Austrian  maxim,  ‘divide  and 
rule’.  In  the  last  twenty  years  the  German  govern¬ 
ment  has  also  taken  an  active  hand  in  the  affair, 
secretly  exciting  and  aiding  the  Ruthenians  against 
the  Poles;  for  the  latter  were  always  the  enemy  for 
Berlin,  and  decades  before  Brest-Litovsk  German 
statesmen  appreciated  the  possibilities  of  the 
‘Ukrainian  idea,’  which  might  be  used  with  equal 
effect  against  both  Russia  and  Poland. 

Nevertheless,  the  Ruthenian  movement  re¬ 
mained  rather  ineffective,  both  because  the  Gali¬ 
cian  Ruthenians  were  the  poorest,  most  ignorant, 
and  most  backward  of  all  the  races  of  Austria, 
and  because  they  were  divided  among  themselves 
as  to  their  goal.  Two  distinct  national  move¬ 
ments  have  really  existed  among  them,  in  a  popula¬ 
tion  of  three  and  a  half  millions.  Part  of  them, 
the  majority,  apparently,  maintained  that  they 
were  a  branch  of  the  Ukrainian  nation,  and  that 
their  goal  must  be  the  ultimate  formation  of  an 
independent  Ukrainian  state.  The  minority,  on 
the  other  hand,  asserted  that  there  was  no  such 
thing  as  a  Ukrainian  nation:  that  the  Galician 
Ruthenians  and  the  people  of  the  Russian  Ukraine 
alike  were  simply  a  branch  of  the  one  great  Russian 
nation,  which  stretched  unbroken  from  the  Car¬ 
pathians  to  the  Pacific.  For  these  people,  in 
theory  at  least,  the  goal  was  the  union  of  Eastern 
Galicia  with  Russia. 

For  a  nation  so  backward  in  its  development,  so 


192 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


divided  against  itself,  and  so  accustomed  to  look 
to  Berlin  and  Vienna  for  aid  and  direction,  the 
World  War  arrived  at  the  wrong  moment:  the 
World  War  and  then  the  collapse  of  Austria  and 
the  crisis  that  was  to  decide  the  fate  of  Eastern 
Galicia. 

At  the  moment  of  Austria’s  spontaneous  disso¬ 
lution,  one  Ruthenian  party  hastened  to  set  up  a 
‘Republic  of  the  Western  Ukraine,’  and,  with  the 
aid  of  certain  Ruthenian  units  in  the  old  Austrian 
army,  attempted  to  seize  possession  of  all  Eastern 
Galicia.  This  led  to  a  prolonged  and  unhappy 
struggle  with  the  Poles,  who  were  not  disposed  to 
submit  to  such  a  settlement  of  the  question.  For 
many  months  the  fighting  centred  around  the 
city  of  Lemberg,  which  long  defended  itself  almost 
single-handed  and  with  great  heroism  against 
superior  Ukrainian  forces.  When  at  last  the 
Polish  government  was  in  position  to  send  large 
reenforcements,  the  issue  was  quickly  decided: 
in  June,  1919,  the  Ukrainian  resistance  collapsed, 
and  the  Poles  occupied  the  whole  country  as  far 
as  the  Zbrucz. 

The  fate  of  Eastern  Galicia  was  thus  more  or  less 
settled  vi  et  armis,  without  the  Conference  and  at 
times  to  the  lively  displeasure  of  the  Conference. 
That  the  Allied  and  Associated  Powers  neverthe¬ 
less  finally  sanctioned  the  Polish  occupation  of 
Eastern  Galicia  and  are  now  apparently  intending 
to  place  that  country,  provisionally  at  least,  under 
the  sovereignty  of  Poland,  is  a  fact  which  has  called 


POLAND 


193 


forth  no  little  criticism.  It  has  been  denounced  as 
a  craven  surrender  in  the  face  of  a  fait  accompli ,  a 
betrayal  of  principle,  the  sacrifice  of  three  and  a 
half  million  Ukrainians  to  the  ravenous  Polish 
imperialists,  and  much  more  to  the  like  effect. 

The  chief  justification  of  the  Conference,  I 
think,  is  to  be  found  in  the  hard  facts  of  the  situa¬ 
tion.  The  Ruthenians  are  indeed  the  majority 
in  Eastern  Galicia;  the  majority  ought  to  rule; 
but  it  was  very  difficult  to  apply  this  principle  in 
this  particular  case. 

The  Ruthenian  majority  was  not  at  all  agreed  as 
to  what  it  wanted.  The  Ukrainophiles  among 
them  were  for  an  independent  Ukrainian  state; 
but  the  other  party  was  altogether  opposed  to  such 
an  idea.  This  second  party,  however,  had  no  more 
practicable  program  to  offer  than  that  the  Allied 
governments  should  occupy  and  administer  East¬ 
ern  Galicia  until  such  time  as  Russia  was  on  her 
feet  again  and  in  condition  to  take  over  the 
country.  If  one  might  judge  from  the  relative 
strength  of  the  two  Ruthenian  parties  as  they 
existed  before  the  war,  the  party  which  wanted  an 
independent  Ukrainian  state  might  be  a  majority 
among  the  Ruthenians,  but  was  only  a  minority  „ 
in  the  total  population. 

It  was  rather  doubtful,  moreover,  whether  the 
Ruthenians  were  capable  of  taking  over  the  govern¬ 
ment  of  the  country.  They  had  had  no  inde¬ 
pendent  state  for  nearly  six  hundred  years,  and 
their  national  development  had  been  so  retarded 


194 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


and  unsatisfactory  that  it  was  not  easy  to  believe 
that  they  were  fitted  for  independent  statehood 
today.  Where  were  the  elements  on  which  a  solid 
state  could  be  constructed?  Such  elements  were 
not  to  be  found  in  the  ignorant  and  inarticulate 
masses  of  the  peasants  nor  in  the  small  class  of 
intellectuals.  These  intellectuals  had  already 
given  the  measure  of  their  ability:  for  six  months 
they  had  tried  to  run  a  government,  and  the  result 
—  nearly  all  the  many  Allied  officers  who  were  sent 
in  to  study  the  situation  were  unanimous  in  the 
opinion  that  this  Ukrainian  government  had  been, 
to  put  it  mildly,  a  sorry  failure;  and  that  the 
majority  of  the  population  —  Poles,  Jews,  and 
Ruthenians  alike  —  were  relieved  when  this  gov¬ 
ernment  collapsed  and  the  Polish  troops  came  in. 

Eastern  Galicia  had  been  fought  over  for  four 
years  by  Austrians  and  Russians,  and  then  for  a 
fifth  year  by  Poles  and  Ukrainians.  The  country 
had  suffered  more  than  any  other  part  of  Eastern 
Europe.  The  Conference  was  anxious  to  assure  to 
this  war-racked  and  desolated  region  a  return 
to  orderly  government  and  stable  conditions  as 
quickly  as  possible.  This  could  not  be  effected 
by  handing  back  the  country  to  the  local  Ukrain¬ 
ian  politicians,  who  had  tried  and  failed;  nor  by 
handing  it  over  to  the  so-called  Republic  of  the 
Great  Ukraine,  represented  only  by  the  will-o’-the 
wisp  government  of  the  peripatetic  Petlura.  The 
Russian  solution  was  practically  out  of  the  ques¬ 
tion  for  the  present.  The  plan  of  international 


POLAND 


i95 


occupation  and  administration  was  indeed  dis¬ 
cussed,  but  none  of  the  powers  felt  able  or  willing 
to  undertake  such  a  burden  in  that  remote  and 
inaccessible  corner  of  Eastern  Europe.  Hence, 
the  only  practical  solution  seemed  to  be  to  entrust 
the  Poles  with  the  occupation  and  administration 
of  the  country,  subject  to  certain  guarantees  to  be 
stipulated  in  favor  of  the  Ruthenians.  The  coun¬ 
try  had  belonged  to  Poland  for  four  hundred  years; 
the  Poles  were  politically  and  economically  the 
most  active,  experienced,  and  capable  element  of 
the  population;  they  were  actually  in  possession 
of  the  country;  and  their  occupation  seemed  to 
meet  with  the  rather  general  approval  of  the  in¬ 
habitants. 

The  final  settlement  of  this  question  has  not  yet 
been  made,  however.  There  have  been  long  nego¬ 
tiations  between  the  Allies  and  the  Polish  govern¬ 
ment  as  to  the  terms  under  which  Poland  may  be 
entrusted  with  the  administration  of  Eastern 
Galicia,  the  autonomy  which  that  province  is  to 
enjoy,  and  the  special  guarantees  for  national 
rights  to  be  insured  to  the  Ruthenians.  No  de¬ 
finitive  agreement  has  yet  been  reached. 

The  eastern  frontier  of  Poland  is  also  still  un¬ 
defined,  for  reasons  already  indicated.  At  any 
rate,  the  Polish  armies  are  now  occupying  a  very 
wide  area  in  the  east.  A  year  ago  the  Bolshevik 
forces  had  advanced  almost  to  the  borders  of 
Congress  Poland:  today,  after  a  certain  amount 


196  the  peace  conference 

of  fighting,  the  Poles  have  thrust  them  back  almost 
to  the  Dnieper.  The  Poles  are  now  in  possession 
of  most  of  the  old  Russian  provinces  of  Grodno, 
Wilno,  Minsk,  and  Volhynia:  i.  e.,  of  a  very  large 
part  of  those  eastern  territories  which  belonged 
to  the  old  Polish  republic  and  which  have  been 
the  object  of  an  age-long  dispute  between  Poland 
and  Russia. 

What  the  ultimate  fate  of  these  regions  will  be, 
it  would  be  difficult  to  forecast.  The  various 
nationalist  movements  which  have  sprung  up  in 
this  area  are  of  such  recent  date  and  such  uncertain 
strength,  that  it  would  require  much  boldness  to 
prophesy  the  outcome.  Will  Lithuania,  for  in¬ 
stance,  consolidate  itself  as  an  independent  state, 
or  renew  its  old  federal  union  with  Poland,  or 
return  to  Russia?  Will  the  Ukrainians  unite 
once  more  with  Russia  or  establish  themselves  as 
a  new  state  of  40,000,000  people?  What  will 
become  of  the  White  Russians,  of  all  the  peoples 
in  this  region  the  most  enigmatic?  The  western 
section  of  them,  being  Catholic,  may  perhaps  gravi¬ 
tate  towards  Poland;  the  eastern  section,  being 
Orthodox,  may  perhaps  cleave  to  the  side  of  Russia. 
Or  will  they  develop  a  national  movement  of  their 
own  ?  When  and  in  what  fashion  will  a  reorganized 
Russia  be  able  to  reassert  her  voice  effectively  in 
these  questions?  Such  are  some  of  the  uncer¬ 
tainties  in  the  case. 

At  all  events,  for  the  time  being  the  Poles  are 
again  in  possession  of  a  larger  part  of  their  ancient 
heritage,  of  the  Poland  that  existed  before  the 


POLAND 


197 


Partitions.  They  are  in  possession  of  territories 
which,  taken  together,  must  contain  a  population 
of  over  thirty  millions.  And  whatever  fluctua¬ 
tions  may  still  take  place  in  her  frontiers,  Poland 
is  likely  to  remain  the  largest  and  in  many  respects 
the  most  important  of  the  new  states  produced  by 
the  war,  the  sixth  most  populous  state  in  Europe. 

While  it  would  doubtless  be  premature  to  hail 
in  this  state,  restored  only  yesterday  and  still  in 
process  of  construction,  a  new  Great  Power,  it  is 
not  impossible  that  Poland  may  in  time  become 
one.  For,  assuming  that  Upper  Silesia  comes  to 
her  by  plebiscite,  her  economic  resources  are 
magnificent.  The  richest  coal  reserves  on  the 
Continent;  zinc,  lead,  iron,  petroleum  in  abun¬ 
dance;  highly  developed  industries  in  the  Congress 
Kingdom,  which  was  the  Lancashire  ol  the  Russian 
empire,  and  in  Upper  Silesia,  which  was  the  Black 
Country  of  eastern  Germany  —  such  are  some  oi 
the  assets  with  which  Poland  resumes  her  national 
life. 

The  greatest  problem  lies  in  the  people  them¬ 
selves.  Of  them  a  writer  by  no  means  prejudiced 
in  their  favor  has  recently  declared: 

“In  all  Europe  there  is  no  other  people,  with  the  possible 
exception  of  the  French,  which  is  naturally  so  gifted.  No 
one  can  study  Eastern  Europe  without  feeling  that  they  are 
infinitely  the  most  attractive  of  the  peoples  with  which  he 
has  to  do.  They  are  the  only  ones  in  whose  composition 
there  is  included  that  subtle  differentia  which  marks  off  the 
‘big  nation’  from  the  ‘small.’’’1 

1  Ralph  Butler,  The  New  Eastern  Europe,  p.  4. 


198  the  peace  conference 

On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  admitted  that  in 
the  past  the  Poles  have  shown  themselves  deficient 
in  organizing  and  administrative  ability,  in  eco¬ 
nomic  enterprise,  in  cohesion,  solidarity,  and 
discipline.  A  century  and  more  of  servitude  to 
foreigners  has  not  been  the  best  of  schooling  for 
orderly  and  efficient  self-government,  nor  has  it 
permitted  the  nation  to  keep  altogether  abreast 
of  the  West  in  intellectual  and  economic  progress. 
And  Poland,  wedged  in  between  a  vindictive 
Germany  and  a  presumably  none  too  friendly 
Russia,  occupies  what  may  fairly  be  called  the 
most  exposed  and  dangerous  position  in  Europe. 

Nevertheless,  the  brilliant  and  original  genius 
of  the  Polish  people;  their  ardent  and  unsurpassed 
spirit  of  patriotism;  the  lessons  which  they  may  be 
presumed  to  have  learned  from  their  misfortunes; 
the  reassuring  evidence  supplied  by  their  conduct 
during  these  last  two  critical  years  —  all  this 
affords  ground  for  hope,  not  only  that  Poland  has 
permanently  recovered  her  independence,  but 
that  she  is  capable  of  becoming  again  what  she  was 
for  so  many  centuries  in  the  past:  a  bulwark  of 
liberty,  republicanism,  and  Western  civilization 
in  the  troubled  East  of  Europe. 


POLAND 


199 


Bibliographical  Note 

One  of  the  most  useful  aids  to  the  study  of  questions  relating 
to  Poland  is  Professor  E.  Romer’s  admirable  Geographic  and  Statist¬ 
ical  Atlas  of  Poland,  published  in  Polish,  French,  and  German: 
Warsaw  and  Cracow,  1916.  An  English  edition  is  soon  to  be  issued. 

Almost  all  sides  of  Polish  life  today,  political,  economic,  intel¬ 
lectual,  and  artistic,  are  described  in  compendious  and  scholarly 
fashion,  and  with  an  abundance  of  maps,  statistics,  and  historical 
information,  in  the  works  published  during  the  War  by  the  Com¬ 
mittee  for  Encyclopaedic  Publications  on  Poland.  This  Committee 
has  published  La  petite  Encyclopedic  polonaise,  Paris-Lausanne, 
1916  (translated  into  English  under  the  title:  Poland,  her  People, 
History,  Industries,  Finance,  Science,  Literature,  Art,  and  Social 
Development);  and  the  larger  Encyclopedic  polonaise,  Fribourg- 
Lausanne,  1917-19,  of  which  vols.  i  (geography  and  ethnography), 
ii,  pt.  3  (territorial  development  of  Polish  nationality  in  four 
volumes),  iii  (economic  life),  and  iv  (political  and  administrative 
regime)  have  hitherto  appeared. 

A  very  convenient  handbook  of  statistical  data  about  Poland  is 
(1  the  Annuaire  statistique  polonais  by  E.  Romer  and  I.  Weinfeld, 

\  Cracow,  1917. 

V  E.  H.  Lewinski-Corwin’s  Political  History  of  Poland,  New  York, 

-  1 9 1 7,  is  perhaps  the  best  account  of  the  subject  available  in  English, 

(  although  marred  by  a  certain  amount  of  patriotic  exaggeration  and 

■party  prejudice.  .  . 

Among  works  dealing  with  the  several  territories  which  have 
been  in  dispute,  the  following  are  notable: 

On  Prussian  Poland:  Ludwig  Bernhard,  Die  Polenfrage.  Leip¬ 
zig,  1910.  (A  moderate  German  view.)  Joseph  Partsch,  Schlesien, 
pts.  1-2.  Breslau,  1896-1911.  “Liber”  (C.  Andrzej ewski),  Das 
Deutschtum  in  IVestpolen  ( Preussisch-Polen ),  seine  Zahl,  seine  Glieder- 
ung,  sein  Starkeverhaltniss  gegeniiber  den  Polen.  Posen,  1919. 

On  the  Galician  question:  W.  Lutoslawski  and  E.  Romer,  The 
Ruthenian  Question  in  Galicia.  Paris,  1919.  H.  Grappin,  Polonais 
etruthenes.  La  question  de  Galicie.  Paris,  I9t9‘  Both  these  works 
are  partisan  statements  from  the  Polish  side.  M.  Lozynsky,  Les 
“  Droits  ”  de  la  Pologne  sur  la  Galicie.  Lausanne,  1917-  E.  Levitsky, 
La  Guerre  polono-ukrainienne  en  Galicie.  Berne,  1919.  This  and 
the  preceding  represent  the  Ukrainian  point  of  view. 

On  the  question  of  Poland’s  eastern  frontier:  L.  Wasilewski, 
Die  Ostprovinzen  des  alten  Po/enreichs.  Cracow,  1916.  By  all 


200 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


means  the  most  complete  and  illuminating  survey  of  Poland’s 
past  relations  with  Lithuania,  White  Russia,  and  the  Ukraine, 
and  of  the  recent  growth  of  nationalist  movements  in  those  regions. 
K.  Verbelis,  La  Lituanie  russe.  Geneva,  1918.  (Lithuanian  views 
and  claims.)  T.  Savtchenko ,  L' Ukraine  et  la  question  ukrainienne. 
Paris,  1918.  (Views  of  a  Ukrainian  nationalist.) 


Ill 


POLAN) 

"Boundaries  of  Poland  in  17 72 
=  International  toundaries  in 
1914 

=  New  Boundaries  fixed  by  the 
Peace  Confrence 
=  Boundaries  of  Dlebiscite  areas 
=  Limits  of  area  occupied  by 
Poles  pending 
setllemenl 


S-Terrifory  of  (he  PTf? 

rree  City  of  Danziq 

PLEBISCITE  AREAS  * 

.  Manenwender  2.Ma:uria  3.Uf  per  Silesia 
4  Teschen  5  Arva  6.  Szepes(Zips) 

Sca/e 


0  40  80  120  160 


30' 


VI. 

AUSTRIA. 


The  Prince  de  Ligne,  dying  in  the  midst  of  the 
carnival  of  revelry  that  marked  the  Congress  of 
Vienna,  declared  that  he  was  preparing  a  new 
amusement  for  the  jaded  appetite  of  that  assembly: 
the  obsequies  of  a  Field  Marshal,  a  Knight  of  the 
Golden  Fleece.  A  no  less  unique,  but  far  graver, 
spectacle  was  provided  for  the  Peace  Conference 
of  Paris:  the  obsequies  of  a  great  empire,  the 
oldest  and  proudest  in  Europe. 

Even  without  deploring  that  event,  one  cannot 
be  altogether  untouched  by  the  spectacle  of  the 
collapse  of  the  Hapsburg  monarchy,  with  its 
stirring  historic  past  and  its  illustrious  traditions, 
the  state  which  in  one  sense  could  trace  its  gene¬ 
alogy  back  to  Charlemagne  and  Augustus  Caesar, 
the  realm  of  Charles  V,  the  Ferdinands,  Maria 
Theresia,  Joseph  II;  the  old  indomitable 

“Oesterreich, 

An  Ehren  und  an  Siegen  reich,” 

of  Wallenstein  and  Prince  Eugene. 

Austria  had  a  raison  d’etre,  had  she  only  known 
how  to  live  up  to  it.  In  the  sixteenth  and  seven- 
teeth  centuries,  she  rendered  a  real  service  to  the 
peoples  of  Central  Europe  in  uniting  them  into  one 
realm  capable  of  checking  and  repelling  the  Turkish 
flood.  And  later  on,  when  the  Turks  had  ceased 

to  threaten,  she  might  have  acquired  a  new  right 

201 


202  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

to  existence  by  educating  her  various  races  to 
self-government,  offering  them  the  advantages  of 
membership  in  a  large  political  and  economic 
union  combined  with  local  autonomy  and  due 
respect  for  the  rights  and  individuality  of  each 
race,  anticipating  in  this  realm,  which,  with  its 
medley  of  nationalities,  was  a  kind  of  miniature 
Europe,  the  solutions  which  the  League  of  Nations 
will  have  to  seek.  After  all,  it  was  a  Czech  patriot 
who  declared  that  if  the  Austrian  monarchy  did 
not  exist,  it  would  be  necessary  to  invent  it. 

But  Austria  has  seldom  risen  to  her  opportuni¬ 
ties.  According  to  Napoleon’s  well  known  saying, 
she  was  always  just  behindhand  with  an  army  or 
an  idea.  There  was  always  something  strangely 
inefficient,  ill-adjusted,  factitious,  unhealthy,  or 
fundamentally  dishonest  about  her.  As  has  often 
been  remarked,  Austria  was  not  a  nation,  it  was 
only  a  government  —  a  dynasty,  an  aristocracy,  a 
bureaucracy,  and  an  army.  A  dynasty,  which  had 
an  extraordinary  passion  and  talent  for  acquiring 
land  —  “the  most  successful  race  of  matrimonial 
and  land  speculators  known  to  history,”  someone 
has  called  them 1  —  but  which  has  shown  very 
little  constructive  or  executive  ability  in  the  tasks 
of  internal  government,  and  whose  policy  has  been 
defined  as  simply  one  of  “exalted  opportunism 
in  the  pursuit  of  the  unchanging  dynastic  idea”;2 

1  J.  Ellis  Barker,  “The  Ultimate  Fate  of  Austria-Hungary,”  in  The 
Nineteenth  Century,  vol.  76  (2),  j3.  1006. 

*  H.  Wickham  Steed,  The  Habsburg  Monarchy,  p.  8. 


AUSTRIA 


203 


a  kind  of  permanent  camarilla  about  the  throne, 
made  up  of  sixty  or  seventy  archdukes  and  arch¬ 
duchesses  and  a  group  of  great  aristocratic  houses, 
so  influential  and  exclusive  that  Mickiewicz  de¬ 
scribed  Austria  as  “an  East  India  Company 
exploited  by  two  hundred  families”;  a  bureaucracy, 
dull,  pedantic,  arbitrary,  and  inefficient,  whose 
ideal  of  government  seldom  rose  above  the  typical 
Austrian  motto  “fortwursteln” — muddle  along 
someway  — ;  an  army  whose  degree  of  internal 
cohesion  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  its  recruits 
swore  allegiance  to  the  emperor  in  nine  languages, 
and  which  had  an  unequalled  record  for  the  number 
of  its  defeats;  such  were  the  chief  forces  that  held 
this  “ramshackle  empire”  together. 

The  task  of  maintaining  and  consolidating  so 
motley  a  realm  was,  after  the  rise  of  the  nationalist 
movements  of  the  nineteenth  century,  increasingly 
and  desperately  difficult;  but  perhaps  it  would  not 
have  been  an  impossible  undertaking,  if  the 
dynasty  had  only  honestly  carried  out  the  prin¬ 
ciple  of  the  equality  of  all  the  Austrian  races,  and 
if  it  had  gone  over,  while  still  there  was  time,  to  a 
genuine  federal  state  organization.  But  the  Haps- 
burgs  did  neither.  Instead  they  repudiated  both 
ideas  by  adopting  and  for  fifty  years  maintaining  the 
Dualist  system  of  1867,  which  meant  the  division 
of  the  monarchy  into  two  halves,  each  of  which  was 
to  be  ruled  by  a  minority  —  the  Germans  in  the 
one  case,  the  Magyars  in  the  other  —  at  the  ex¬ 
pense,  and  in  defiance  of  the  wishes,  of  the  Slavic 


204  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

and  Latin  majorities.  That  system  has  been 
called  “the  ruin  of  modern  Austria.” 

Of  the  workings  of  the  system  in  Hungary 
something  will  be  said  in  the  next  chapter.  In  the 
Austrian  or  Cisleithan  part  of  the  monarchy, 
Dualism  led  to  incessant  struggles,  immense 
embitterment,  and  finally  the  virtual  breakdown 
of  constitutional  government,  and  a  return  to  a 
but  slightly  disguised  absolutism. 

The  one  thing  that  saved  the  system  from  total 
shipwreck  was  the  antagonisms  that  existed,  not 
only  between  the  Germans  and  the  majority  op¬ 
posed  to  them,  but  also  between  the  various  races 
of  which  that  majority  was  composed.  These 
antagonisms  were  sedulously  fomented  by  the 
government  itself.  It  is  one  of  the  worst  sins  of 
the  Hapsburgs  that,  far  from  acting  as  peace¬ 
makers  or  even  as  impartial  arbiters  between  their 
discordant  races,  they  deliberately  and  syste¬ 
matically  strove  to  aggravate  national  animosities 
and  to  fan  the  flames  of  discord,  hoping  to  be  able 
to  play  off  one  race  against  another  in  the  authentic 
Turkish  fashion,  and  seeming  to  imagine  that 
Austria  could  subsist  through  internal  dissensions, 
just  as  Poland  was  once  thought  to  subsist  through 
her  anarchy.  The  Emperor  Francis  I  congratu¬ 
lated  himself  that  his  peoples  were  aliens  to  each 
other  and  detested  one  another:  each  race  could 
therefore  be  used  as  a  jailer  for  some  other  race. 
“From  their  antipathies  springs  order,”  he  de¬ 
clared,  “and  from  their  mutual  hatred  the  general 


AUSTRIA 


205 


peace.”  1  Francis  Joseph  might  adopt  as  an 
official  slogan  Viribus  unitis ,  but  his  practice  was 
based  much  more  upon  the  traditional  maxim, 
Divide  et  impera.  He  and  his  agents  are  very 
largely  responsible  for  that  violent  series  of  na¬ 
tionality  conflicts  which  have  raged  in  almost 
every  province  of  the  monarchy  —  that  bellum 
omnium  contra  omnes ,  which  has  disgraced  and 
poisoned  the  political  life  of  Austria  and  paved 
the  way  for  her  complete  disruption. 

Out  of  these  discords  grew  the  World  War,  as 
a  result  of  Austria’s  effort  to  crush  the  most 
dangerous  of  the  nationalist  movements  threaten¬ 
ing  her  from  within  by  striking  at  its  outside  source. 
But  this  War,  which  was  to  have  saved  her,  turned 
out  to  be  her  ruin,  not  only  by  involving  her  in 
military  disasters,  but  even  more,  perhaps,  by 
accelerating  her  internal  decomposition.  Far  from 
reinvigorating  the  monarchy  by  drawing  all  its 
races  together  in  a  great  outburst  of  patriotism 
and  a  great  common  effort  —  as  Teuton  propa¬ 
gandists  used  to  tell  us  that  it  had  done  —  the 
War  had  just  the  contrary  effect.  The  indigna¬ 
tion  of  so  many  Hapsburg  races  at  being  forced  to 
fight  for  a  cause  of  which  they  disapproved;  the 
attempt  of  the  authorities  to  stifle  this  discontent 
by  imprisoning,  shooting,  or  hanging  tens  of 
thousands  of  people;  the  many  signs  that  the 
Austrian  Germans,  intoxicated  with  enthusiasm 
for  Prussia,  were  yearning  to  apply  Prussian 


1  Cited  in  Cheradame,  L’ Europe  et  la  question  d'Autriche ,  p.  3. 


206  the  peace  conference 


methods  to  their  old  domestic  enemies  and  to  make 
tabula  rasa  of  those  inferior  peoples  who,  as  a 
German  writer  put  it,  were  “only  a  burden  upon 
history,”  and  could  “serve  only  as  mortar  for  a 
nobler  race”;  the  consciousness  that  in  case  of  a 
victory  for  the  Central  Powers  Austria  would 
emerge  bound  hand  and  foot  to  the  chariot  of 
Germany  and  the  anti-German  races  were  doomed; 
finally,  and  not  least,  the  psychological  effects  of 
war-weariness  and  economic  misery,  which  have 
more  or  less  shattered  empires  better  knit  to¬ 
gether  than  this  one  —  all  these  things  combined 
to  raise  to  a  white  heat  the  discontent  of  the 
majority  of  the  Hapsburg  races  and  to  make  them 
resolve  that  they  would  stand  this  Austrian  night¬ 
mare  no  longer,  if  the  Allies  would  only  hold  out 
to  them  a  helping  hand. 

The  Allies  had  certainly  had  little  serious  in¬ 
tention  of  disrupting  Austria,  at  the  beginning  or 
throughout  the  greater  part  of  the  War.  The 
traditional  belief  that  Austria  was  a  “European 
necessity,”  the  illusion  that  she  could  serve  as  a 
bulwark  against  the  expansion  of  Germany  towards 
the  southeast  or  of  Russia  towards  the  Adriatic, 
the  hope  that  she  might  be  detached  from  Ger¬ 
many  and  persuaded  to  make  a  separate  peace, 
the  fear  that  the  disappearance  of  the  monarchy 
would  lead  only  to  the  ‘Balkanization’  of  Central 
Europe  and  to  chaos  worse  confounded  —  such 
ideas  seem  to  have  predominated  at  London, 
Paris,  and  perhaps  Washington,  even  down  to  the 


AUSTRIA 


207 


last  year  of  the  War.  As  late  as  January  8,  1918, 
President  Wilson,  in  formulating  the  Fourteen 
Points,  still  disclaimed  the  thought  of  impairing 
the  integrity  of  Austria,  and  asked  for  her  subject 
races  nothing  more  than  autonomy. 

But  in  the  spring  and  summer  of  1918  a  great 
change  came  over  Allied  policy  with  respect  to  the 
Austrian  question.  It  would  be  difficult  to  say 
how  far  this  change  was  due  to  a  growing  realiza¬ 
tion  on  the  part  of  the  Allies  of  the  essential  justice 
of  the  claims  of  the  Austrian  subject  races;  or  to 
the  failure  of  all  hopes  of  inducing  Austria  to  make 
a  separate  peace;  or  to  the  very  clever  diplomacy 
of  the  Czecho-Slovaks  and  the  obligations  under 
which  the  latter  had  placed  the  Allies  by  their 
services  in  Siberia  and  Russia.  I  am  inclined  to 
think,  however,  that  the  change  was  caused  in 
very  large  part  by  the  gradually  maturing  con¬ 
viction  that,  to  use  Mr.  Henderson’s  phrase,  ‘Ger¬ 
many,  if  she  had  not  yet  conquered  her  enemies, 
had  at  least  conquered  her  allies’;1  that  Austria’s 
independence,  gravely  and  progressively  impaired 
ever  since  the  formation  of  her  alliance  with 
Berlin  in  1879,  had  now  become  definitely  a  thing 
of  the  past,  so  that  if  she  continued  to  exist  at  all, 
it  would  be  only  as  a  satellite  and  tool  of  Germany, 
a  German  bridge  towards  the  Near  East,  the  gang¬ 
way  of  Mitteleuropa.  Certain  declarations  made 
from  the  highest  quarters  in  Austria  in  July,  19^, 
after  a  meeting  of  the  two  Kaisers  declarations 

1  Cited  in  The  New  Europe ,  ii,  pp.  30,  227. 


208  the  peace  conference 


announcing  the  intention  ‘to  tighten  the  bonds 
between  the  two  empires  in  the  sense  of  a  durable 
fellowship  in  time  of  peace,’  confirmed  the  fear  of 
the  formation  of  a  Central  European  bloc  with  a 
population  of  120,000,000  and  an  active  army  of 
12,000,000  men.  If  this  scheme  were  realized, 
Germany  would  have  doubled  her  power  and  won 
the  War,  even  though  she  restored  all  the  territory 
she  had  occupied.  From  all  this  the  conclusion 
seemed  plain  that  the  only  way  for  the  Allies  to 
defeat  the  Pan-Germanist  plan  and  place  a  perma¬ 
nent  check  upon  Prussian  militarism  was  to  disrupt 
Austria-Hungary  and  to  form  a  series  of  national 
states  along  the  eastern  frontier  of  Germany.  It 
was  now  the  destruction  of  Austria  that  was  a 
European  necessity.  Hence,  in  the  summer  of 
1918,  the  Allied  governments,  one  after  the  other, 
formally  approved  the  claims  of  the  two  chief  mal¬ 
content  Hapsburg  races,  the  Czecho-Slovaks  and 
the  Yugo-Slavs,  to  unity  and  independence,  and 
the  Czecho-Slovaks  were  even  recognized  as  an 
allied  and  belligerent  nation.  These  declarations, 
accompanied  or  soon  followed  as  they  were  by  the 
sudden  change  in  the  military  situation,  the  rapid 
and  unbroken  series  of  Allied  victories  on  every 
front,  and  the  collapse  of  Bulgaria,  sealed  the  fate 
of  Austria-Hungary. 

The  dynasty  did,  indeed,  experience  a  deathbed 
repentance.  In  that  black  month  of  October, 
when  he  was  daily  throwing  himself  on  President 
Wilson’s  doorstep,  pleading  his  zeal  for  peace  and 


AUSTRIA 


209 


his  love  for  the  Fourteen  Points,  Kaiser  Karl  was 
also  promising  mountains  and  marvels  to  his  own 
subjects  —  the  complete  transformation  of  the 
monarchy  into  a  federation  of  national  states. 
Such  a  system  adopted  even  a  few  years  earlier 
might  have  saved  Austria;  but,  as  some  one  has 
remarked,  at  the  point  at  which  matters  had 
arrived,  'one  might  as  well  have  talked  of  federat¬ 
ing  the  Kilkenny  cats.’  1  As  the  Czecho-Slovak 
National  Council  declared,  the  Austrian  races  were 
no  longer  to  be  duped  by  promises  from  Vienna,  as 
to  the  value  of  which  they  had  had  a  sufficiently 
long  experience.  “What  we  demand  the  govern¬ 
ment  at  Vienna  will  never  give  us,  and  couldn  t, 
if  it  wanted  to.”  2 

In  the  course  of  thirty  days  the  monarchy  spon¬ 
taneously  split  into  fragments.  Almost  without 
opposition  from  the  authorities,  almost  without  a 
hand  being  raised  in  defence  of  the  secular  throne 
of  the  Hapsburgs,  power  passed  to  the  National 
Councils  improvised  by  the  Czecho-Slovaks,  the 
Yugo-Slavs,  the  Poles,  the  Ukrainians,  the  Rouman¬ 
ians,  the  Magyars,  and  even  the  German  Austrians. 
November  12-13  the  last  of  the  Hapsburgs  abdi¬ 
cated.  It  was  a  dissolution  without  a  parallel, 
with  the  elemental  force  of  a  tidal  wave. 

When  the  Peace  Conference  met  at  Paris,  it  did 
not  have  to  concern  itself  with  the  old  question 

1  Francis  Gribble  in  The  Nineteenth  Century,  vol.  8  2  (2),  pp.  883-884. 

2  Declaration  of  the  Czecho-Slovak  National  Council,  Sept.  19,  1918, 
cited  from  the  Journal  des  Dehats,  weekly  edition,  Oct.  25,  1918. 


210 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


whether  the  maintenance  of  Austria  was  a  Euro¬ 
pean  necessity.  The  Austrian  peoples  themselves 
had  settled  that  question,  with  irrefragable  logic 
and  unmistakable  finality.  The  territories  of  the 
defunct  empire  had  already  been  partitioned,  in 
rough,  provisional  fashion  and  not  without  a  few 
miniature  wars,  among  eight  states  corresponding 
to  the  eight  principal  nationalities  of  that  Empire. 
Five  of  these  states  were  reckoned  at  Paris  as 
Allies  —  Italy,  Roumania,  Yugo-Slavia,  Czecho¬ 
slovakia,  and  Poland;  two  of  them  —  Hungary 
and  German  Austria  —  ranked  as  enemies;  while 
as  to  the  Galician  Ukrainians,  Paris  could  never 
quite  make  up  its  mind  whether  to  count  them  as 
friends,  enemies,  or  neutrals.  The  main  problem 
before  the  Conference,  therefore,  was,  while  making 
peace  with  the  two  enemy  states  mentioned,  to 
effect  a  definitive  division  of  the  Hapsburg  inheri¬ 
tance  that  would  be  just,  practical,  and  conducive 
to  the  peace  and  security  of  Europe. 

The  difficulties  of  such  a  task  are  obvious 
enough,  and  will  appear  more  fully  in  the  discus¬ 
sion  of  the  individual  problems  that  follows.  It 
is  well  known  that  Austria  has  been  from  the 
earliest  times  an  open  inn  to  half  the  travelling 
nations  of  Europe  and  Asia;  that  her  rich  plains 
are  covered  with  ethnographic  sediment  deposited 
by  a  score  of  successive  invasions;  that  her  moun¬ 
tains,  which  are  generally  not  too  high  and  are 
pierced  by  plenty  of  easy  passes,  have  served, 
not  so  much  as  barriers  separating  races,  but 


AUSTRIA 


2 1 1 


rather  as  rallying  places  for  weak  or  fugitive 
peoples  seeking  a  refuge.  Neither  the  Austrian 
Alps,  nor  the  Carpathians,  nor  the  mountains  of 
Bohemia  form  an  ethnographic  frontier.  Not 
one  of  the  Austrian  races  is  separated  from  its 
neighbors  by  really  clearly  marked  natural  bound¬ 
aries.  The  historic  political  or  administrative 
divisions  are  usually  equally  unsatisfactory  as  a 
basis  for  marking  off  the  several  nationalities  from 
each  other.  In  Hungary  the  county  divisions  are 
largely  of  very  recent  date,  and  really  represent 
gerrymanders,  intended,  not  to  separate  races, 
but  to  mingle  them  in  such  a  way  as  to  produce 
wherever  possible  a  Magyar  majority.  In  Austria 
almost  all  the  political  divisions  were  very  old, 
and  represented  simply  the  debris  of  feudalism 
the  duchies,  counties,  and  margraviates  that  took 
shape  in  the  Middle  Ages,  when  political  forma¬ 
tions  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  principle  of 
nationality.  Of  the  seventeen  crownlands  or 
provinces  of  Austria,  fourteen  contained  two  or 
more  races  jumbled  together.  But  however  arti¬ 
ficial  and  incongruous  these  provincial  divisions 
might  seem  when  judged  from  the  standpoint  of 
nationality,  their  very  age  or  long  continuance 
added  another  element  of  difficulty:  it  opened  the 
door  to  claims  based  on  ‘historic  rights.’  Almost 
every  one  of  the  Hapsburg  races  had  once  had  an 
independent  state  of  its  own;  and  where  was  the 
race  so  forgetful  of  its  glorious  past  as  not  to  claim 
the  whole  of  every  province  which  had  once  be- 


212 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


longed  to  it,  no  matter  what  the  present  ethno¬ 
graphic  situation  might  be?  Indeed,  since ‘ethno¬ 
graphic  rights’  and  ‘historic  rights’  were  so 
frequently  in  conflict,  it  was  a  common  phenom¬ 
enon  that  each  race  should  use  the  one  argument 
or  the  other  alternately,  as  suited  its  purposes  in 
each  particular  case,  without  much  regard  for 
that  consistency  which  Bismarck  called  “the 
virtue  of  small  minds.’’  The  Czecho-Slovaks,  for 
instance,  claimed  the  whole  of  Bohemia,  Moravia, 
and  Austrian  Silesia  by  virtue  of  historic  rights, 
regardless  of  the  strong  German  and  Polish  ma¬ 
jorities  in  various  parts  of  those  provinces.  But 
when  it  came  to  the  northwestern  parts  of  Hun¬ 
gary,  where  they  had  no  historic  claim,  and  the 
Magyars  a  very  good  one,  they  shifted  their  argu¬ 
ment  completely  to  the  basis  of  ethnographic 
statistics.  One  need  not,  however,  be  very  severe 
on  our  allies  for  such  inconsequences.  There  was 
“a  deal  of  human  nature”  about  most  of  them; 
and  they  can  scarcely  be  called  more  illogical  than 
those  critics  of  the  Peace  settlement,  whose 
hearts  bleed  for  Ireland,  Egypt,  and  India,  but 
who  are  inconsolable  over  the  destruction  of 
“venerable,  old  Austria,”  and  who  would  much 
have  preferred  that  the  large  Polish  majority  in 
Upper  Silesia,  made  up  mainly  of  oppressed 
peasants  and  workingmen,  should  have  remained 
in  the  grip  of  the  German  minority  of  feudal  mag¬ 
nates  and  capitalists. 

The  decisions  of  the  Paris  Conference  with  re- 


AUSTRIA 


213 


gard  to  the  liquidation  of  Austria-Hungary  are  em¬ 
bodied  in  the  Versailles  treaty  with  Germany  of  June 
28,  and  the  treaty  with  German  Austria  signed 
at  Saint-Germain-en-Laye  on  September  10. 
Untoward  events  have  delayed  down  to  the  present 
the  conclusion  of  peace  with  Hungary.  The 
-settlements  hitherto  made  have  not  decided  the 
fate  of  certain  extremely  contentious  territories, 
which  have  been  placed  at  the  disposal  of  the 
Principal  Allied  and  Associated  Powers.  Such 
is  the  case  with  nearly  all  the  Adriatic  territories 
in  dispute  between  Italy  and  the  Yugo-Slavs; 
and  with  various  districts  where  plebiscites  are  to 
be  held:  i.  e.,  Teschen,  Zips  (Szepes),  Arva,  and 
Klagenfurt.  At  any  rate,  with  these  exceptions, 
one  can  now  discern  pretty  clearly  the  new  terri¬ 
torial  settlement  in  the  lands  of  the  former  Haps- 
burg  monarchy. 

The  northwestern  portions  of  the  monarchy  have 
organized  themselves,  with  the  sanction  of  the 
Conference,  as  the  republic  of  Czecho-Slovakia. 
The  Czechs  and  Slovaks  are  two  brother  races, 
established,  the  one  in  Bohemia,  Moravia,  and 
Silesia,  the  other  in  the  northwestern  parts  of 
Hungary.  According  to  the  census  of  1910,  the 
Czechs  numbered  about  six  and  one  half  millions; 
the  Slovaks  about  two  millions.  Allowing  for  the 
peculiar  methods  of  Austrian  and  Hungarian  census- 
takers,  one  will  hardly  go  far  wrong  in  raising  the 
total  for  the  two  peoples  combined  to  about  ten 
millions.  This  would  make  them  the  third,  and 


214  THE  peace  conference 

perhaps  even  the  second,  largest  nationality  within 
the  borders  of  the  late  empire.1 

The  degree  of  relationship  between  the  Czechs 
and  Slovaks  is  one  not  easy  to  define.  According 
to  the  one  view,  which  is  popular  especially  among 
the  Czechs,  the  two  peoples  represent  an  original 
ethnic  and  linguistic  unit  —  a  single  race,  which 
through  historic  accidents  came  to  be  separated  for 
centuries  and  to  be  considerably  differentiated  in 
speech,  customs,  and  character,  although  always 
preserving  such  close  linguistic  and  moral  ties  that 
they  deserve  to  be  considered  as  one  nation. 
According  to  the  other  view,  which  is  advanced 
especially  by  certain  Slovak  scholars  and  politi¬ 
cians,  the  Czechs  and  Slovaks,  in  spite  of  all  simi¬ 
larities  and  affinities,  are,  and  always  have  been, 
two  distinct  and  independent  branches  of  the 
Slavic  family,  two  nations,  which  have  been  drawn 
together  chiefly  by  common  misfortunes  and  com¬ 
mon  dangers  and  which  may  therefore,  perhaps, 
find  it  expedient  to  contract  a  political  union.  At 
any  rate,  the  following  facts  are  clear.  For  many 
centuries  the  two  peoples  have  had  a  common 
literary  language;  their  writers  and  scholars  long 
maintained  that  they  were  a  single  nation;  and  if 
in  the  last  century  an  effort  has  been  made  to 
develop  a  distinct  Slovak  literary  language,  it  has 
made  no  great  progress.  The  two  idioms  today 
are  so  closely  alike  that  the  two  peoples  understand 

1  The  Hungarian  census  of  1910  claimed  that  the  Magyars  in  the  lands 
of  the  Crown  of  St.  Stephen  numbered  10,050,575. 


AUSTRIA 


215 


each  other  without  difficulty.  Politically,  the 
Czechs  and  Slovaks  have  been  separated  through¬ 
out  most  of  their  history.  After  a  brief  period  of 
union  in  the  ninth  and  tenth  centuries,  they  fell 
apart  definitively  in  1031.  The  Czechs  continued 
to  have  a  state  of  their  own,  the  kingdom  of  Bo¬ 
hemia,  while  the  Slovaks  fell  under  the  sway  of  the 
Magyars  for  the  next  nine  hundred  years.  Never¬ 
theless,  geographic  propinquity  and  linguistic,  reli¬ 
gious,  and  intellectual  ties  sufficed  to  keep  up  a 
strong  sense  of  fellowship  and  interdependence 
between  the  two  peoples.  These  feelings  have 
been  strengthened  in  recent  years  by  the  convic¬ 
tion  that  in  their  struggles  against  their  respective 
tyrants  —  the  Germans  in  the  one  case,  the  Mag¬ 
yars  in  the  other  —  they  were  fighting  a  common 
battle  and  had  better  stand  shoulder  to  shoulder. 
And  when  the  World  War  brought  an  almost 
undreamed-of  chance  for  complete  liberation, 
Czechs  and  Slovaks  were  wise  enough  to  see  that 
the  two  peoples,  so  weak  numerically  and  placed 
in  so  exposed  and  dangerous  a  position,  had  little 
chance  of  maintaining  their  independence  unless 
they  united.  It  is  true  that  there  has  been  a 
certain  amount  of  friction,  and  that  a  section  of  the 
Slovaks  have  been  protesting  against  what  they 
call  the  absorption  of  their  people  by  the  Czech 
intruders.  But  this  was  inevitable.  As  far  as 
one  can  learn,  the  majority  of  the  Slovaks  have 
accepted  the  union,  whether  as  a  marriage  of  reason 
or  of  affection ;  and  the  combination  is  so  necessary, 


n6  the  peace  conference 


if  both  peoples  are  to  escape  being  swallowed  up 
again  by  the  Magyars  and  Germans,  that  one  can 
only  hope  that  it  will  last.  In  sanctioning  the  idea 
for  which  the  rather  new  name  of  Czecho-Slovakia 
was  adopted,  the  Peace  Conference  assuredly 
believed  that  it  was  satisfying  the  wishes  of  both 
peoples,  and  confirming  the  only  arrangement  cap¬ 
able  of  insuring  peace  in  this  peculiarly  important 
danger  zone. 

The  main  territorial  problem  that  presented  it¬ 
self  with  respect  to  Czecho-Slovakia  was  whether 
the  new  state  should,  in  its  western,  Cisleithan 
half,  receive  boundaries  drawn  to  fit  the  ethno¬ 
graphic  frontier,  or  whether  it  should  obtain  its 
historic  boundaries  —  the  boundaries  of  the  old 
Czech  kingdom,  which  included  the  whole  of  the 
provinces  of  Bohemia,  Moravia,  and  Austrian 
Silesia. 

The  problem  was  a  grave  one.  The  Germans 
formed  37%  of  the  population  of  Bohemia;  28%  in 
Moravia;  44%  in  Silesia.  The  three  provinces 
contained  a  total  of  three  and  one  half  million 
Germans  according  to  the  last  census.  What  was 
worse,  these  Germans  are  very  largely  gathered 
in  compact  masses,  in  a  zone  which  wellnigh  en¬ 
circles  the  Czech-speaking  territory,  and  which, 
on  its  outer  side,  was  everywhere  contiguous  with 
Germany  or  German  Austria.  It  would  have  been 
difficult  to  form  this  rather  narrow  ring  of  territory 
into  an  independent  republic  of  German  Bohemia, 
as  some  of  its  leading  politicians  demanded.  Such 


AUSTRIA  217 

a  state  would  have  been  a  politico-geographical 
monstrosity.  But  the  peripheral  territories  might 
have  been  lopped  off  and  handed  over,  in  part  to 
Germany,  in  part  to  German  Austria,  as  the  princi¬ 
ple  of  nationality  might  seem  to  require.  More¬ 
over,  it  could  not  be  forgotten  that  the  Czechs  and 
Germans  of  Bohemia  were  separated  by  centuries 
of  struggles  and  animosities.  Nowhere  else  in  Aus¬ 
tria  had  there  been  so  bitter  a  conflict  of  nation¬ 
alities  in  recent  decades.  In  the  mixed  districts 
every  village,  one  might  almost  say  every  house 
and  every  yard  of  ground,  had  been  fought  over. 
It  had  come  to  the  point  where  Czechs  and  Germans 
could  scarcely  be  brought  to  work  in  the  same 
factory;  where  a  small  town  might  have  to  have 
two  railroad  stations  —  one  for  each  race;  where 
the  propagandists  of  the  rival  nationalities  com¬ 
peted  in  proselytizing  even  the  inmates  of  the 
insane  asylums.  For  the  past  ten  years  the 
Provincial  Diet  of  Bohemia  had  been  practically 
closed  because  of  the  violence  ot  the  race  feud. 
Under  such  circumstances,  could  one  think  of 
including  three  and  one  halt  million  Germans  in 
the  new  Czech  state? 

Not  without  hesitation,  the  Peace  Conference 
decided  to  preserve  the  historic  frontiers  ot  the 
old  kingdom  of  Bohemia.  That  decision  has 
occasioned  much  criticism;  and  indeed,  among  the 
decisions  of  the  Conference,  there  is  scarcely  any 
other  instance  where  so  large  a  number  ot  people 
have  been  placed  under  the  sovereignty  of  another 


218 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


race.  Nevertheless,  I  think  that  there  is  much 
justification  for  this  settlement. 

First  and  foremost,  it  should  be  observed  that  a 
strictly  ethnographic  frontier  would  have  given 
an  almost  impossible  and  fatal  configuration  to 
Czecho-Slovakia.  Even  as  it  is  now  constructed, 
this  state  presents  a  somewhat  fantastic  appear¬ 
ance  on  the  map.  It  looks  like  a  tadpole.  It 
is  a  narrow  couloir  about  600  miles  in  length, 
but  in  its  eastern  districts  hardly  60  miles  wide; 
and  in  Moravia,  the  province  which  forms  the  link 
between  Bohemia  and  Slovakia,  it  is  only  100 
miles  across.  Now,  if  the  frontier  had  been  drawn 
on  the  ethnographic  basis,  these  defects  would 
have  been  aggravated  in  very  dangerous  fashion. 
Prague,  the  capital,  would  have  been  brought 
within  about  30  miles  of  the  German  frontier. 
The  Moravian  link  would  have  been  little  more 
than  50  miles  wide.  The  state  would  have  been 
constricted  in  the  middle  until  it  had  much  the 
shape  of  an  hour  glass.  Czecho-Slovakia  occupies 
a  very  perilous  position.  It  is  a  wedge  thrust 
into  the  side  of  Germany.  For  a  thousand  years 
the  Czechs  have  been  engaged  chiefly  in  beating 
off  the  German  onslaughts,  and  it  is  to  be  feared 
that  in  the  future  they  will  not  be  free  from  the 
same  danger.  Surrounded  as  they  are  on  three 
sides  by  Germany  and  German  Austria,  they  would, 
indeed,  be  in  the  gravest  peril  if,  in  case  of  a  con¬ 
flict,  their  enemies  needed  only  to  join  hands  across 
a  gap  50  miles  wide  in  order  to  cut  the  Czecho- 


AUSTRIA 


219 


Slovak  state  in  two.  If  this  state  was  to  be 
created  at  all,  it  had  to  be  created  in  a  shape  that 
would  give  it  some  guarantees  of  viability. 

In  the  second  place,  if  there  are  any  cases  where 
‘historic  rights’  deserve  to  be  respected,  this  is 
probably  one.  The  Czechs  were  the  first  of  the 
two  races  to  settle  the  country.  It  was  they  who 
founded  and  maintained  the  kingdom  of  Bohemia, 
which  had  so  glorious  a  history  in  the  Middle 
Ages  and  down  to  the  time  when  it  succumbed  to 
Hapsburg  despotism  in  the  seventeenth  century. 
Bohemia,  Moravia,  and  Silesia  were  the  three  con¬ 
stituent  parts  of  this  realm;  together  they  made 
up ‘the  lands  of  the  Crown  of  St.  Wenceslaus’;  and 
down  to  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century 
even  the  Hapsburgs  admitted  that  they  owed  their 
sovereign  rights  over  these  lands  solely  to  their 
position  as  kings  of  Bohemia.  If  in  the  nineteenth 
century  the  effort  was  made  to  sweep  away  all 
vestiges  of  that  kingdom  and  to  merge  it  in  the 
Austrian  empire,  the  Czechs  steadily  refused  to  rec¬ 
ognize  these  changes.  They  insisted  that  the 
kingdom  of  Bohemia  still  existed  as  a  distinct  entity, 
legally  bound  to  the  other  Hapsburg  lands  only  by 
the  person  of  the  common  ruler;  and  they  have 
fought  for  this  principle  and  for  that  of  the  integrity 
and  indissolubility  of  their  realm  with  such  tenacity 
that  these  ideas  have  become  veritable  dogmas  in 
their  minds.  In  sanctioning  a  Czech  state  in¬ 
cluding  the  whole  of  Bohemia  and  Moravia  and 
most  of  Austrian  Silesia,  the  Conference  is  not 


220  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


setting  up  a  new  and  artificial  creation:  it  is  merely 
renewing  and  confirming  in  its  old  territorial  limits 
a  state  which  existed  for  centuries  and  which  de 
jure ,  perhaps,  has  never  ceased  to  exist. 

The  German  populations  in  this  state  are  in  the 
main  descended  from  settlers  who  were  brought 
in  by  the  kings  of  Bohemia  in  the  thirteenth  and 
fourteenth  centuries  to  clear  and  colonize  the  forests 
and  waste  lands,  which  then  formed  a  girdle  around 
the  borders  of  the  kingdom.  These  people  volun¬ 
tarily  established  themselves  in  a  Czech  land,  and 
their  descendants  have  always  been  subjects  of  the 
Czech  state,  save  possibly  during  the  last  century 
or  so  when  it  is  a  contentious  question  whether  a 
Czech  state  existed.  At  any  rate,  these  Germans 
have  never,  since  their  immigration,  belonged  to 
Germany.  And  it  may  perhaps  be  doubted 
whether  the  presence  of  this  German  fringe  is  a 
sufficient  reason  for  dismembering  so  ancient  a 
state  or  a  country  so  clearly  marked  out  by  nature 
to  be  a  unit. 

For  Bohemia  (the  territory  chiefly  in  question) 
has  an  extraordinary  physical  unity  —  greater 
than  is  possessed  by  any  other  country  in  Central 
Europe.  This  appears  in  its  unusual  river  system, 
with  its  radial  convergence  of  all  the  water  courses 
towards  the  centre  of  the  country;  and  not  less 
in  the  mountain  walls  which  guard  the  four  sides 
of  this  natural  citadel,  especially  the  sides  turned 
towards  Germany.  Were  the  political  boundary 
to  be  removed  from  these  mountains  and  carried 


AUSTRIA 


221 


down  into  the  plain  where  the  ethnographic 
frontier  lies,  this  would  mean  exchanging  a  bound¬ 
ary  that  is  excellent  alike  from  the  geographic, 
the  economic,  and  the  strategic  standpoint  for 
one  that  is  quite  the  reverse. 

Finally,  it  may  be  said  that  German-speaking 
Bohemia  would  suffer  if  cut  off  from  the  rest  of  the 
country.  It  is  one  of  the  most  highly  industrial¬ 
ized  territories  of  Central  Europe,  the  chief 
manufacturing  centre  of  the  old  Austrian  empire; 
and  as  such  it  has  always  been  dependent  upon 
the  Czech  agricultural  region  for  its  food  supply 
and,  in  large  part,  its  laborers.  Moreover,  it  needs 
the  markets  which  Czecho-Slovakia  can  furnish  it 
at  home  or  can  open  up  to  it  in  the  southeast. 
The  natural  economic  ties  are  so  strong  that  not  a 
few  German  Bohemians  have,  since  the  Armistice, 
publicly  declared  that  their  future  can  lie  only  in 
union  with  the  Czecho-Slovak  state,  and  that  union 
with  Germany  would  mean  ruin  for  them.  And 
from  the  Czech  point  of  view,  it  is  clear  that  the 
new  state  would  have  entered  on  its  career  with  an 
almost  fatal  handicap,  had  it  been  deprived  of  its 
chief  industrial  districts  and  its  main  supplies  of 
coal  and  other  minerals. 

Such  were  the  reasons  that  led  the  Conference 
to  depart  rather  widely  in  this  case  from  its  usual 
principles  of  boundary-making.  The  settlement 
‘seems  to  have  been  accepted  by  the  parties  most 
concerned  without  serious  trouble  and  with  far  less 
friction  than  might  have  been  expected.  While 


222 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


some  mistakes  may  have  been  made  at  the  start, 
the  Czechs  have  in  general  facilitated  the  transition 
by  treating  their  old  enemies  in  that  generous,  tact¬ 
ful,  and  sensible  spirit  which  they  have  shown  in 
most  other  matters,  and  which  enables  one  to  form 
very  favorable  auguries  as  to  the  future  of  their 
young  republic. 

Leaving  the  boundary  questions  of  Slovakia  to 
be  considered  in  connection  with  Hungarian 
problems,  we  now  pass  on  to  German  Austria. 

It  was  the  German-speaking  provinces  of  the 
Eastern  Alps,  with  their  centre  at  Vienna,  which 
formed  the  cradle  or  nucleus  of  the  Austrian 
monarchy.  It  was  there  that  the  house  of  Haps- 
burg  began  its  rise  in  1276.  And  it  is  to  this  small 
mountain  territory  that  the  once  proud  name  of 
Austria  is  again  restricted.  The  new  republic 
inherits  only  about  one-fourth  of  the  area  of  the 
old  Austrian  or  Cisleithan  half  of  the  late  empire. 
It  is  supposed  to  have  a  population  of  about  six 
and  a  half  millions,  whereas  Austria  had  twenty- 
eight  and  a  half  millions  in  1910.  In  shape  it  is 
almost  as  elongated,  as  thin  about  the  waist,  as 
Czecho-Slovakia.  It  looks  like  an  inverted  pistol 
with  the  point  aimed  at  Switzerland. 

The  making  of  the  new  Austrian  frontiers  in¬ 
volved  several  vexatious  problems.  On  the  north, 
indeed,  it  was  resolved  without  much  controversy 
to  accept  as  the  frontier  between  Austria  and 
Czecho-Slovakia  the  historic  boundary  between 


AUSTRIA 


223 


Bohemia  and  Moravia  on  the  one  side,  and  the 
provinces  of  Upper  and  Lower  Austria  on  the  other. 
Only  two  slight  deviations  were  made,  both  at  the 
expense  of  Austria,  in  order  to  avoid  cutting  impor¬ 
tant  railway  connections. 

It  was  the  southern  boundary  that  occasioned 
difficulties.  As  between  the  Austro-Germans  and 
the  Slovenes,  who  were  to  be  united  to  the  Yugo¬ 
slav  state,  the  effort  was  made  to  keep  strictly  to 
the  ethnographic  frontier.  But  this  was  not  easy 
in  so  mountainous  a  region,  where  racial  frontiers 
may  take  no  account  of  geography,  but  political 
boundary  makers  cannot  afford  to  do  so. 

The  worst  problem  was  the  basin  of  Klagenfurt. 
Here  the  narrow,  encased  valley  of  the  Drave 
widens  out  into  a  long,  fertile  corridor,  which  is 
again  closed  at  the  lower  end  and  which  obviously 
ought  to  be  treated  as  a  political  unit.  Unfor¬ 
tunately  the  southern  side  of  the  valley  is  Slovene 
in  population  and  the  northern  side  German,  and 
in  between  lies  the  city  of  Klagenfurt  with  its 
29,000  people  a  great  metropolis  for  that  region 
which  is  hotly  disputed.  The  Austrian  census 
shows  this  city  to  have  a  German  majority;  but 
the  Yugo-Slavs  claim  that  it  was  Slovene  fifty  years 
ago  and  would  be  now,  were  it  not  for  certain  tricks 
played  upon  them  by  the  Austrian  government. 
Klagenfurt  last  year  enjoyed  much  the  same  pain¬ 
ful  notoriety  as  Fiume,  Danzig,  or  the  Saar.  I 
know  not  how  many  unhappy  Allied  Commission¬ 
ers  were  sent  down  there  to  investigate,  report, 


224  THE  peace  conference 

delimit  provisional  boundaries,  or  to  restrain  the 
German  or  Yugo-Slav  rifles,  which  kept  going  off 
of  themselves.  Finally,  the  Conference  decided 
to  refer  the  matter  to  a  plebiscite.  By  an  arrange¬ 
ment  which  may,  perhaps,  be  said  to  favor  the 
Yugo-Slavs,  the  Klagenfurt  basin  is  divided  into 
two  zones.  In  the  first  and  larger  zone,  the  more 
contested  one,  and  indeed  the  only  one  in  which 
there  may  be  a  Slovene  majority,  the  vote  is  to  be 
taken  within  three  months  after  the  Peace  Treaty 
with  Austria  goes  into  force.  If  the  outcome  in 
this  zone  favors  Austria,  she  will  keep  both  zones 
without  further  formalities.  If  the  vote  favors 
Yugo-Slavia,  the  plebiscite  will  then  be  held  in 
three  weeks  in  the  second  zone,  which  is  pretty 
purely  German,  but  which  is  geographically  so 
situated  that  it  could  not  easily  be  separated  from 
the  first  zone. 

If  this  arrangement  has  provoked  much  dissatis¬ 
faction  in  Austria,  that  has  been  even  more  the  case 
over  the  drawing  of  the  new  Austro-Italian  fron¬ 
tier  in  the  Tyrol. 

The  facts  here  are  sufficiently  simple  and  well 
known.  Italy  was  concerned,  in  the  first  place,  to 
liberate  the  400,000  Italians  in  the  Trentino,  to 
which  she  had  every  right;  and  secondly,  to  secure 
a  strong  natural  frontier  on  her  most  exposed  side, 
on  the  side  looking  towards  Germany.  The  fron¬ 
tier  which  she  asked  for,  and  which  the  Confer¬ 
ence  accorded  her,  was  the  crest  of  the  highest  east- 
to-west  ranges  in  the  Tyrol  —  the  line  of  the 


AUSTRIA 


225 


Oetzthaler  and  Zillerthaler  Alps  and  the  Hohe 
Tauern  —  a  line  which  cuts  the  great  historic 
north-to-south  corridor  through  the  Tyrol,  not 
in  its  wider  southern  section,  but  at  its  highest  and 
narrowest  point,  the  Brenner  Pass.  The  new 
frontier  is  about  the  best  one  that  could  be  drawn 
from  the  geographic  standpoint,  since  it  follows 
the  natural  line  of  division,  the  watershed  between 
the  rivers  that  flow  south  to  the  Adriatic,  and  those 
that  flow  north  and  east  to  the  Danube.  It  also 
affords  the  strongest  strategic  barrier  that  Italy 
could  find.  It  has,  however,  the  drawback  of 
including  in  Italy  a  compact  German-speaking 
population  of  about  250,000;  old  German  towns 
like  Botzen,  Meran,  Brixen,  and  various  localities 
famous  in  German  song  and  story,  the  homes  of 
Andreas  Hofer,  the  Tyrolese  hero  of  1809,  and  of 
Walther  von  der  Vogelweide.  Whether  among 
the  several  parallel  ranges  farther  south  than  the 
Brenner  a  frontier  might  not  have  been  found 
which  would  have  afforded  Italy  tolerable  guaran¬ 
tees  of  security  without  involving  the  necessity  of 
her  absorbing  so  many  Germans,  is  a  question  on 
which  a  great  deal  might  be  said.  Among  the 
experts  at  Paris  opinions  were  divided  on  that  sub¬ 
ject,  but  in  the  Supreme  Council,  already  some¬ 
what  embarrassed,  perhaps,  by  the  Adriatic  ques¬ 
tion,  the  Italian  view  prevailed. 

If  the  national  principle  has  been  somewhat 
violated  to  Austria’s  detriment  in  the  south,  it 
has  been  applied  in  her  favor  in  the  east.  The 


226  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


adjacent  border  zone  of  Hungary  had  a  solid 
German-speaking  population;  and,  at  a  time  when 
Hungary  was  being  broken  up  along  ethnographic 
lines,  it  seemed  only  fair  to  unite  these  Germans 
to  Austria.  Alone  among  the  states  of  the  de¬ 
feated  Alliance,  Austria  has  thus  emerged  from 
the  War  with  at  least  one  territorial  acquisition. 

At  any  rate,  under  the  new  conditions  one  can 
no  longer  speak  of  ‘happy  Austria’  or  of  the 
‘gay  Viennese.’  Almost  ruined  by  the  War  and 
its  aftermath,  weighed  down  by  the  financial 
charges  imposed  by  the  Peace  Treaty,  prostrated 
by  the  separation  of  the  heart  of  the  old  monarchy 
from  most  of  the  provinces  which  had  nourished 
and  sustained  it,  suffering  terribly  at  present  and 
utterly  despondent  about  her  future,  Austria  has 
become  the  Niobe  of  nations.  Today  she  is  forced 
to  compete  with  Armenia  as  a  supplicant  for  the 
charity  of  the  world. 

It  has  been  commonly  said  in  Vienna  this  past 
year  that  German  Austria  cannot  exist  alone,  if 
only  for  economic  reasons,  and  that  there  remain 
to  it  only  two  possibilities:  either  union  with 
Germany,  or  some  kind  of  a  customs  union  with 
the  new  states  that  have  grown  out  of  the  Haps- 
burg  empire. 

Union  with  Germany  was  very  much  in  the  air  a 
year  ago;  indeed,  one  of  the  first  acts  of  the 
Austrian  National  Assembly  on  November  n,  19 1 8, 
was  a  vote  in  favor  of  such  a  union.  But  the 
Peace  Conference  vetoed  the  project.  This  was 


AUSTRIA 


227 


done  by  the  rather  indirect  method  of  inserting 
in  the  Peace  Treaty  with  Germany  an  article  by  . 
which  the  latter  had  to  bind  herself  to  “respect 
strictly  the  independence  of  Austria”  within  the 
frontiers  to  be  fixed  by  the  Allied  and  Associated 
Powers,  and  to  agree  that  “this  independence 
shall  be  inalienable  except  with  the  consent  of  the 
Council  of  the  League  of  Nations.” 

This  act  of  the  Conference  has  been  defended 
on  the  ground  that,  at  the  close  of  a  war  in  which 
Germany  has  shown  herself  such  a  menace  to  the 
world,  it  is  scarcely  expedient  or  even  safe  to 
gratify  her  with  the  acquisition  of  over  six  million 
new  subjects.  It  is  only  after  she  has  success¬ 
fully  passed  a  period  of  probation  and  has  shown 
that  she  has  fundamentally  changed  her  methods 
and  her  point  of  view,  that  the  rest  of  the  world 
can  accord  her  such  an  aggrandizement,  if  the 
Austrians  at  that  time  still  desire  the  union.  I 
confess,  however,  that  I  cannot  help  feeling  that 
in  this  case  the  more  generous  attitude  would  have 
been  the  wiser  one.  As  long  as  the  Allies  insist 
on  keeping  Austria  in  a  cell  by  herself,  they  are 
likely  to  have  a  chronic  invalid  on  their  hands. 
The  effort  to  hold  asunder  even  provisionally  two 
branches  of  a  people  like  the  Germans  may  easily 
involve  embarrassments  greater  than  any  ad¬ 
vantages  that  are  to  be  derived  from  it.  And  what 
is  most  important  is  the  essential  justice  of  the 
thing.  It  is  the  great  merit  of  the  Peace  Con¬ 
ference  that  it  endeavored,  on  the  whole  honestly 


228  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


and  in  such  sweeping  fashion  as  was  never  seen 
before,  to  apply  the  principle  of  nationality  to  the 
resettlement  of  Europe.  One  cannot  but  regret 
that  this  work  should  be  tarnished  by  denying 
even  temporarily  to  the  German  and  German- 
Austrian  peoples  the  right  to  work  out  their  na¬ 
tional  unity. 


Bibliographical  Note 

Joseph  Chavannes’  Physikalisch-statistischer  Hand-Atlas  von 
Oesterreich-Ungarn,  Vienna,  1887,  is  still  the  best  cartographic 
introduction  to  Austrian  problems. 

Among  the  best  general  works  dealing  with  the  late  Hapsburg 
monarchy,  one  would  name:  A.  Cheradame,  L’ Europe  et  la  question 
d’ Autriche  au  seuil  du  XXe  siecle.  4th  ed.  Paris,  1906.  B. 
Auerbach,  Les  Races  et  les  nationality  en  Autriche-Hongne.  2d  ed. 
Paris,  1917.  H.  Wickham  Steed,  The  Habsburg  Monarchy.  2d  ed. 
London,  1914.  V.  Gayda,  Modem  Austria:  her  racial  and  social 
problems.  New  York,  1915.  R.  W.  Seton-Watson,  German ,  Slav, 
and  Magyar.  London,  1916. 

The  British  Foreign  Office  Handbooks  are  a  particularly  conven¬ 
ient  source  of  information  about  the  former  Hapsburg  monarchy 
and  its  several  constituent  territories. 

The  history  of  the  Czecho-Slovaks  has  been  set  forth  for  Western 
readers  principally  in  the  masterly  works  of  Professor  Ernest  Denis: 
La  Fin  de  T independance  boheme.  2  vols.  Paris,  1890.  La  Boheme 
depuis  la  Montagne-Blanche.  2  vols.  Paris,  1903.  ^es  Slovaques. 
Paris,  1917. 

Valuable  descriptions  of  the  progress  and  situation  of  the  Czecho¬ 
slovaks  before  the  War  are  to  be  foundv  in:  W.  S.  Monroe,  Bohemia 
and  the  Cechs.  Boston,  1910.  T.  Capek  (ed.),  Bohemia  under 
Hapsburg  Misrule.  New  York,  1915-  Z.  V.  Tobolka  (ed.),  Das 
bohmische  Volk.  Prague,  1916.  H.  Rauchberg,  Der  nationale 
Besitzstand  in  Bohmen.  2  vols.  Leipzig,  1905.  (The  most  detailed 
and  comprehensive  study  of  the  nationality  situation  in  Bohemia.) 

Czecho-Slovak  claims  and  aspirations  are  well  formulated  by 
Dr.  Edouard  Benes  in  Bohemia' s  Case  for  Independence,  London, 

I9I7* 


AUSTRIA 


229 


A  detailed  discussion  of  the  new  frontiers  of  German  Austria 
(with  a  map)  is  contained  in  the  article  by  Dr.  E.  de  Martonne, 
“Le  traite  de  St.-Germain  et  le  demembrement  de  l’Autriche,”  in 
Annales  de  geographic,  Jan.  15,  1920.  See  also  the  article  on  “The 
New  Boundaries  of  Austria”  in  The  Geographical  'Journal ,  Nov., 
1919,  and  N.  Krebs,  “  Deutsch-Oesterreich,”  in  Geographische 
Zeitschrijt,  vol.  xxv,  2-4  Hft. 

The  nationality  situation  in  the  regions  most  in  dispute  along 
Austria’s  new  frontiers  is  best  described,  perhaps,  in:  A.  Brunialti, 
Le  nuove  Provincie  italiane ,  i:  II  Trentino.  Turin,  1919-  Mon- 
tanus,  Die  nationale  Entwicklung  Tirols  in  den  letzten  Jahrzehnten. 
Vienna,  1918.  M.  Pirker,  “Die  Zukunft  Karntens,”  in  the  Oester- 
reichische  Rundschau ,  Dec.  1, 1918.  J.  Bunzel,  “  Das  deutsche  West- 
ungarn,”  in  the  same  number  of  the  review  just  cited. 


VII 

HUNGARY  AND  THE  ADRIATIC 


/9  U 
U?  L 


Among  all  the  states  of  Europe  there  are  few  which, 
from  the  historical,  the  geographic,  or  the  eco¬ 
nomic  point  of  view,  might  appear  to  have  a  better 
claim  to  existence  than  the  thousand-year-old 
kingdom  of  Hungary.  Nature  would  seem  to 
have  marked  out  for  political  unity  this  Pannonian 
basin,  with  its  marvellously  fertile  plain  of  the 
Alfold  in  the  centre,  surrounded  on  almost  every 
side  by  mountain  walls  and  mineral-bearing  high¬ 
lands,  with  its  roads  and  rivers  all  converging 
towards  the  great  Danube  waterway,  and  its 
various  parts  supplementing  each  other  economic¬ 
ally  in  so  admirable  a  fashion,  x^nd  here,  for  once, 
history  and  geography  did  not  seem  to  be  working 
at  cross-purposes.  Ever  since  the  appearance  of 
those  gifted  and  valiant  x^siatics,  the  Magyars, 
in  the  Danubian  plain  in  the  ninth  century,  the 
Pannonian  basin  has  been  united  into  a  state  which 
has  shown  a  remarkable  vitality  and  durability, 
and  whose  frontiers,  in  spite  of  some  temporary 
fluctuations,  have  on  the  whole  remained  singu¬ 
larly  unchanged.  If  ancient  status  of  possession, 
economic  cohesion,  and  what  may  be  called  the 
geographic  fitness  of  things,  were  all  the  factors 
that  need  be  taken  into  account,  the  Hungarian 
state,  in  spite  of  all  its  misdeeds,  ought  to  have 
come  through  the  World  War  intact.  Unfortu- 

231 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


232 

nately  for  it,  however,  there  is  another  factor 
which  counts  for  even  more  nowadays:  the  rights 
and  aspirations  of  peoples. 

Hungary  has  always  been  a  polyglot  state.  The 
ruling  race,  the  Magyars,  a  nation  of  mixed  Finno- 
Ugrian  and  Turko-Tartar  stock,  are  a  people  of 
the  plains  like  their  nomad  ancestors.  They  are 
said  to  have  a  positive  aversion  for  living  more 
than  600  feet  above  sea  level.  Hence,  except  for  a 
few  scattered  colonies,  they  have  always  remained 
quartered  in  the  plain  of  the  Alfold,  leaving  the 
peripheral  highlands  and  the  once  swampy  regions 
of  the  south  to  other  races,  whom  they  probably 
found  in  the  country  at  the  time  of  their  arrival 
and  whose  numbers  have  certainly  been  increased 
by  subsequent  immigration.  The  Magyars  are 
an  island  of  Asiatics  surrounded  by  a  sea  of  Latins 
and  Slavs. 

This  ruling  race  is  probably  only  a  minority  of 
the  total  population.  The  earliest  census  of  na¬ 
tionalities  that  we  have  and  the  only  one  that  was 
taken  by  relatively  impartial  officials,  the  census  of 
1851,  makes  out  the  Magyars  to  be  only  37%  of 
the  total  population.  It  is  true  that  since  the  Mag¬ 
yars  have  taken  the  census  into  their  own  hands, 
their  percentage  has  risen  steadily  with  each  suc¬ 
cessive  decade,  until  by  1900  they  could  claim  a 
slight  majority,  and  in  1910  they  could  boast  of 
54%.  In  this  latter  year  they  were  reckoned  at 
just  ten  millions,  out  of  a  population  of  eighteen 
millions  for  Hungary  proper.  Their  astonishing 


HUNGARY  AND  THE  ADRIATIC  233 

gains  at  the  expense  of  the  other  races  were 
officially  explained  as  due  to  “  the  peaceful  propa¬ 
gation  of  Hungarian  culture.”  01  that  peaceful 
propagation”  I  shall  speak  in  a  moment;  but  it 
should  be  said  here  that  scarcely  any  unprejudiced 
observer  accepts  Hungarian  racial  statistics  at 
their  face  value,  and  that  a  more  probable  esti¬ 
mate  would  reduce  the  number  of  the  Magyars  to 
about  eight  millions.  This  would  make  them  a 
minority  even  in  Hungary  proper,  and  much  more 
so  in  the  whole  kingdom  —  i.  e.,  with  Croatia 
included  —  which  had  a  population  of  twenty-one 
millions  in  1910. 

Among  the  subject  races,  the  Roumanians 
probably  numbered  three  to  three  and  a  half 
millions;  the  Slovaks  two  to  three  millions;  the 
Ruthenians  half  a  million;  the  Serbs  and  Croats 
three  millions;  the  Germans  two  millions. 

Like  every  other  racially  composite  state,  Hun¬ 
gary  was  placed  before  the  gravest  of  problems  by 
the  nineteenth  century  revival  of  the  submerged 
or  long  dormant  nationalities.  During  the  early 
and  middle  part  of  that  century,  this  problem 
could  seldom  be  seriously  faced  by  the  Magyars, 
for  they  were  engaged  in  their  own  battle  lor  con¬ 
stitutional  rights  against  the  despotic  and  cen¬ 
tralizing  policy  of  Vienna.  In  this  struggle  they 
displayed  a  vigor  and  a  tenacity  which  won  for 
them  both  the  sympathy  and  admiration  ol  the 
world  and  a  reputation  as  liberals  and  democrats 
which  they  have  since  singularly  belied.  As  soon 


234 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


as  their  victory  over  the  imperial  government 
was  sealed  by  the  Compromise  of  1867,  as  soon  as 
they  found  themselves  masters  in  Transleithania, 
the  Magyars  set  to  work  to  deny  to  the  other  races 
of  the  kingdom  all  those  liberties  for  which  they 
themselves  had  been  fighting.  The  programme, 
henceforth  pursued  with  the  most  relentless  rigor 
and  the  most  unscrupulous  methods,  was  to  ‘  assure 
the  unity  of  the  Hungarian  State’  by  Magyarizing 
the  subject  races. 

One  must  not  be  taken  in  by  such  mere  stage 
decorations  as  the  Hungarian  law  of  nationalities 
of  1868  —  in  appearance  the  most  generous  meas¬ 
ure  that  could  be  devised,  but  never  put  into 
practice;  nor  by  the  glib  phrases  of  Magyar 
propagandists  about  the  unparallelled  freedom 
that  existed  in  Hungary,  and  the  zeal  with  which 
the  government  fostered  the  languages  and  culture 
of  the  non-Magyar  races.  Anything  more  in¬ 
solently  defiant  of  the  truth  could  scarcely  be 
imagined.  What  has  really  gone  on  in  Hungary 
in  the  past  fifty  years  —  what  “  the  peaceful  propa¬ 
gation  of  Magyar  culture”  meant  —  is  something 
not  easy  to  condense  into  a  few  words.  In  the 
briefest  summary,  however,  it  includes: 

The  exclusion  of  the  non-Magyar  languages 
from  all  state  schools,  the  courts  of  law,  adminis¬ 
trative  intercourse,  and  every  other  kind  of  official 
use; 

Scandalous  violation  of  the  rights  of  freedom 
of  person,  speech,  meeting,  and  association; 


HUNGARY  AND  THE  ADRIATIC  235 

Systematic  and  merciless  persecution  of  every 
manifestation  of  non-Magyar  national  sentiment; 

An  exaggerated  irritability  or  arrogance  of 
power,  which  has  led  Magyar  authorities  to  impose 
sentences  totalling  twenty-nine  years  of  imprison¬ 
ment  on  a  few  petitioners  who  ventured  to  com¬ 
plain  to  the  Emperor-King;  to  expel  schoolboys 
or  seminarians  merely  for  speaking  Roumanian 
or  Slovak  in  the  streets;  or  to  imprison  a  nurse¬ 
maid  for  “conspiring  against  the  state”  by  allow¬ 
ing  a  three-year-old  child  to  wear  a  bow  with  the 
Roumanian  colors; 

The  virtual  exclusion  of  non-Magyars  from 
public  office; 

A  parliamentary  franchise  narrow  and  compli¬ 
cated  beyond  description,  and  so  administered  as 
regularly  to  assure  to  the  Magyar  minority  all 
but  about  10  of  the  413  seats  in  Parliament,  so 
that  the  other  races  were  virtually  disfranchised; 

An  unrivalled  system  of  gerrymandering; 

Parliamentary  elections  stained  with  every  form 
of  outrage,  fraud,  and  illegality,  with  coercion  so 
freely  employed  that  the  government  itself  boasted 
that  at  the  last  elections  it  had  used  only  194 
battalions  of  infantry  and  114  squadrons  of 
cavalry,  and  it  has  often  been  said  that  Hungarian 
elections  resembled  nothing  so  much  as  a  civil  war. 

Such  are  some  of  the  features  of  what  may  fairly 
be  called  the  most  odious  system  of  racial  oppres¬ 
sion  known  to  modern  Europe. 

It  is,  of  course,  true  that  this  system  was  the 


236  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

work  of  the  ruling  oligarchy  —  a  class  which 
showed  itself  averse  to  democratic  progress  in  any 
form,  and  which  also  chastised  the  Magyar 
proletariat  with  whips,  even  if  it  reserved  its 
scorpions  for  the  non-Magyars.  But  that  made 
little  practical  difference.  The  cardinal  fact  was 
that  after  standing  this  sort  of  thing  for  fifty  years, 
the  subject  peoples  had  come  to  execrate  the  very 
name  of  Magyar.  If  a  chance  for  liberation  pre¬ 
sented  itself,  then,  as  some  one  has  said,  not  even 
an  angel  from  heaven  could  have  dissuaded  them 
from  seizing  it. 

Hence,  during  the  general  debacle  of  the  Quad¬ 
ruple  Alliance  in  October-November,  1918,  Hun¬ 
gary  disintegrated  almost  as  spontaneously  and 
easily  as  Austria.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  new 
republican  government  of  Count  Karolyi  fought 
frantically  to  save  the  territorial  integrity  of  the 
state  by  offering  the  non-Magyar  peoples  the 
widest  and  most  sweeping  concessions,  going  even 
so  far  as  to  propose  the  transformation  of  Hun¬ 
gary  into  a  federation  of  national  cantons  on  the 
Swiss  model.  Nothing  could  make  the  seceders 
believe  that  the  Magyar  could  change  his  spots, 
or  tempt  them  back  into  the  cage. 

Equally  fruitless  were  the  diplomatic  or  pro¬ 
pagandist  efforts  to  persuade  the  Allied  Powers 
that  Hungary  had  suddenly  become  a  new  crea¬ 
tion,  which  could  not  be  held  responsible  for  the 
acknowledged  sins  of  its  former  rulers,  and  ought 
to  be  let  off  intact  and  scot-free.  It  is  scarcely 


HUNGARY  AND  THE  ADRIATIC  237 

necessary  to  enter  here  into  the  tangled  and  not 
quite  edifying  relations  between  the  Allies  and  the 
various  governments  that  have  succeeded  each 
other  at  Budapest:  the  genuinely  democratic  and 
reforming  government  of  Count  Karolyi  (October 
1918-March  1919);  the  Bolshevist  interlude  under 
Bela  Kun  (March-August);  and  the  more  recent 
cabinets  made  up  of  more  or  less  unsmirched 
remnants  of  the  old  regime.  These  many  changes 
of  government  have  long  delayed  the  conclusion  of 
peace  with  Hungary.1  At  all  events,  the  treaty  is 
now  apparently  about  to  be  signed;  and  it  seems 
safe  to  assume  that  this  treaty  will  embody  the 
territorial  arrangements  which  were  decided  upon 
at  Paris  in  the  spring  of  1919  and  which  I  shall  now 
try  briefly  to  describe. 

The  northwestern  highlands  of  Hungary,  which 
are  inhabited  mainly  by  Slovaks,  are  to  be  in¬ 
corporated  into  Czecho-Slovaki  a.  This  state 
touches  the  Danube  at  one  point  through  the 
acquisition  of  Presburg,  the  one-time  capital  of 
Hungary.  Regrettable  as  it  may  be  that  so 
historic  a  city  should  be  lost  to  its  old  owners,  it 
must  be  said  that  Presburg  was  always  rather 
German  than  Magyar  in  population;  and  that 
it  will  furnish  the  land-locked  republic  of  Czecho¬ 
slovakia  with  a  much-needed  port  on  the  Danube 

1  While  these  pages  were  going  through  the  press,  the  peace  treat)  with 
Hungary  was  signed  on  June  4  at  the  palace  of  the  Grand  Trianon  at 
Versailles. 


2j 8  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

and  a  means  of  commercial  access  to  the  Balkans 
and  the  Black  Sea. 

The  half-million  Ruthenians  who  inhabit  the 
mountains  of  northeastern  Hungary  form  a  se¬ 
cluded  and  backward  population  which  has 
hitherto  been  supremely  indifferent  to  the  affairs 
of  the  outside  world.  Alone  among  the  races 
of  Hungary,  they  had  no  national  movement 
and  probably  very  little  consciousness  of  nation¬ 
ality.  Before  the  War  they  had  not  a  single 
school  in  which  their  language  was  taught,  no 
political  newspaper  of  any  kind,  and  scarcely  any 
educated  class.  What  went  on  in  these  primitive 
and  illiterate  heads  when  the  gospel  of  self- 
determination  penetrated  to  them,  it  is  difficult 
to  guess.  There  are  tales  that  within  a  very  few 
weeks  three  so-called  National  Assemblies  were 
held,  each  claiming  to  represent  the  ‘Carpatho- 
Ruthenian  nation,’  and  that  these  rival  gatherings 
‘self-determined’  their  people,  the  one  for  union 
with  Czecho-Slovakia,  the  second  for  union  with 
Hungary,  and  the  third  for  union  with  their  kins¬ 
men  over  the  mountains  in  Galicia.  At  any  rate, 
the  Czechophile  tendency  appears  to  have  been 
the  strongest.  Going  on  the  best  evidence  it 
could  get  as  to  the  preferences  of  this  enigmatic 
population,  the  Peace  Conference  has  decided  to 
attach  them  to  Czecho-Slovakia,  though  under  the 
form  of  an  autonomous  province  with  generous 
rights  of  self-government. 

An  ideal  which  has  haunted  the  minds  of  Rou- 


HUNGARY  AND  THE  ADRIATIC  239 

manian  patriots  for  a  century,  but  which  long 
seemed  only  an  iridescent  dream,  has  been  realized 
by  the  annexation  to  Roumania  of  Transylvania 
and  the  adjacent  zone  of  territory  on  the  west. 
This  aspiring  kingdom  has  now  very  nearly  at¬ 
tained  the  frontiers  of  Trajan’s  province  of  Dacia; 
and  everyone  knows  with  what  ardor  the  modern 
Roumanians  claim  that  they  are  descended  from 
the  Roman  colonists  sent  out  to  Dacia  in  Trajan’s 
time. 

Contrary  to  what  appears  to  be  widely  believed 
in  this  country,  Roumania’s  acquisitions,  with  the 
possible  exception  of  some  small  contentious  border 
districts,  are  based  strictly  upon  the  principle  of 
nationality.  They  serve  to  liberate  over  three 
millions  of  Roumanians,  who,  among  all  the  sub¬ 
ject  peoples  of  Hungary,  were  the  race  most  hated 
and  oppressed  by  the  Magyars,  because  of  their 
numbers  and  the  tenacity  of  their  patriotism.  It 
is  true  that  in  eastern  Transylvania  several  large 
compact  bodies  of  Magyars  and  Germans  (900,000 
of  the  former,  200,000  of  the  latter)  are  now  trans¬ 
ferred  to  Roumanian  rule.  But  this  is  unavoid¬ 
able  in  the  case  of  such  isolated  enclaves.  The 
Germans  apparently  do  not  object  seriously;  and 
as  for  the  Magyars,  it  would  be  impossible  to  leave 
them  to  Hungary  without  cutting  off"  a  far  larger 
number  of  Roumanians  from  their  mother  coun¬ 
try.  But  of  all  the  dramatic  changes  of  fortune 
in  Eastern  Europe,  there  is  none  more  striking 
than  this  one,  which  has  put  down  the  mighty 


24o  the  peace  conference 

Magyars  from  their  seats,  and  exalted  the  humble 
Roumanian,  for  eight  hundred  years  a  slave  and 
an  outcast  in  his  own  country. 

Roumania  and  Serbia  have  had  an  unpleasant 
controversy  over  the  former  Hungarian  territory 
called  the  Banat  of  Temesvar.  Although  this 
dispute  had  very  nearly  brought  those  two  Allied 
nations  to  blows,  when  it  was  laid  before  the  Peace 
Conference  one  distinguished  prime  minister 
burst  out  in  an  audible  whisper,  “Where  on  earth 
is  the  Banat?”  The  Banat  lies  just  southwest 
of  Transylvania.  It  is  the  quadrangle  enclosed 
by  the  Danube,  the  Theiss,  the  Maros,  and  the 
Transylvanian  mountains. 

It  would  take  over-long  to  set  forth  the  argu¬ 
ments,  historical,  economic,  geographic,  ethno¬ 
graphic,  and  miscellaneous,  with  which  the  two 
rivals  regaled  the  Peace  Conference.  The  Confer¬ 
ence  gave  what  was,  I  think,  a  proof  of  its  wisdom 
by  repeating  the  judgment  of  Solomon  and  divid¬ 
ing  the  disputed  object  between  the  litigants. 
Roumania  will  receive  the  larger  portion,  most  of 
which  is  overwhelmingly  Roumanian  in  popula¬ 
tion.  Serbia  acquires  the  very  motley  western 
section,  in  which  Serbs,  Roumanians,  Germans, 
and  Magyars  are  terribly  intermingled,  but  in 
which  the  Serbs  are  at  least  a  plurality:  she  ac¬ 
quires  a  much-needed  zone  to  protect  Belgrade  on 
the  north  and  east,  and  a  number  of  towns  which 
have  played  so  great  a  role  in  Serbian  intellectual 
movements  that  they  are  considered  the  cradle  of 
the  Serb  national  revival. 


HUNGARY  AND  THE  ADRIATIC  241 

Farther  to  the  westward  lies  the  historic  king¬ 
dom  of  Croatia,  which  has  for  eight  hundred  years 
been  bound  to  Hungary  by  ties  which  no  one 
could  ever  quite  satisfactorily  define,  but  which 
have  often  been  compared  to  the  connection  be¬ 
tween  England  and  Ireland.  In  the  last  half 
century  at  least,  Magvar-Croat  relations  have 
been  even  less  serene  and  amicable  than  Anglo- 
Irish  ones.  It  goes  almost  without  saying  that 
Croatia  has  now,  of  her  own  choice,  united  with 
Serbia  and  the  Slovene  lands  of  Austria  to  form  the 
new  state  popularly  called  Yugo-Slavia. 

That  state  has  also  received  Bosnia  and  the 
Herzegovina,  two  provinces  which  have  been  the 
Alsace-Lorraine  of  southeastern  Europe  ever  since 
their  ill-fated  occupation  by  Austria-Hungary  in 
1878.  Thus  the  unity  of  the  Southern  Slav  race 
is  very  nearly  completed. 

Here  again  one  is  in  the  presence  of  another 
seemingly  impossible  dream  realized.  Only  ten 
years  ago  the  Yugo-Slavs  were  living  under  six 
different  governments;  and  their  deputies  sat  in 
fourteen  different  parliaments,  national  or  pro¬ 
vincial.  To  attain  their  unity  they  have  had  to 
disrupt  two  such  empires  as  Austria-Hungary  and 
Turkey. 

Their  present  union  into  one  state  appears  to  be 
in  every  sense  natural  and  desirable.  For  Serbs, 
Croats,  and  Slovenes  are  blood-brothers,  three 
closely  related  branches  of  one  family.  Serbian  and 
Croatian  are  virtually  the  same  language,  although 
written,  the  one  in  Cyrillic,  the  other  in  Latin, 


242 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


characters.  If  Slovene  forms  a  rather  different 
idiom  or  even  language,  it  is  quite  intelligible  to 
the  other  two  peoples.  The  Southern  Slavs,  more¬ 
over,  need  to  stand  together.  They  occupy  an 
extremely  important  and  a  dangerous  position; 
they  are  the  guardians  of  the  gate  that  leads  from 
Central  Europe  to  Constantinople  and  Bagdad. 
For  three  small  peoples,  placed  in  such  a  position, 
the  motto  that  “in  union  there  is  strength”  cannot 
be  too  much  emphasized. 

It  is,  of  course,  true  that  the  Serbs,  Croats,  and 
Slovenes  have  been  politically  separated  through¬ 
out  their  history,  as  a  result  of  geography  and  such 
accidents  as  the  Turkish,  Magyar,  and  German 
conquests.  It  is  also  true  that  they  have  de¬ 
veloped  considerable  differences  in  customs,  grade 
of  culture,  and  above  all  in  religion.  The  Serbs 
are  Orthodox;  the  Croats  and  Slovenes  Catholics; 
and  there  are  in  Bosnia  about  600,000  people 
who,  though  Serbs  in  race,  are  Mohammedans. 
In  this  new  menage,  made  up  indeed  of  brothers, 
but  of  brothers  who  have  all  their  lives  been  sep¬ 
arated,  it  is  only  to  be  expected  that  there  will  be  a 
certain  amount  of  domestic  friction.  Nevertheless, 
I  think  the  reunion  of  the  family,  which  the  Peace 
Conference  sanctioned  and  indeed  worked  for,  is  to 
be  considered  one  of  the  greatest  gains  effected  by 


the  World  War. 

To  sum  up,  Hungary  has  lost  more  than  half  of 
her  area  and  population.  She  is  reduced  to  the 
lowland  region  around  Budapest,  which  has  always 


IV 


HUNGARY  AND  THE  ADRIATIC  243 

been  the  real  home  of  the  Magyar;  she  now  has  a 
population  of  only  eight  to  nine  millions.  It  is  to 
be  regretted  that  she  has  lost  almost  all  her  forests, 
her  mineral  wealth,  her  mountain  sources  of  water¬ 
power,  her  access  to  the  sea. 

Grievous  as  her  fate  may  be,  it  can  scarcely  be 
called  unmerited.  Louis  Kossuth,  the  idol  of  the 
modern  Magyars,  answering  a  deputation  sent  by 
the  subject  peoples  in  1848  to  plead  for  their 
national  rights,  retorted,  “No,  let  the  sword  decide 
between  us.”  And  that  remained  the  attitude  of 
this  race,  whose  greatest  patriot  declared  that  ‘  pride 
would  be  their  ruin.’  One  cannot  forget  that  this 
was  a  Magyar,  as  well  as  a  German,  war;  and 
that,  as  some  one  has  said,  ‘it  was  provoked  by  a 
ring  of  Magyar  politicians  who  had  mortgaged  their 
very  souls  to  the  German  cause  in  order  to  pur¬ 
chase  a  free  hand  for  the  oppression  of  the  non- 
Magyars.’  1 

But  one  would  prefer  to  regard  the  settlement  of 
the  Hungarian  problem  made  at  Paris  not  as  a 
matter  of  retributive  justice,  but  rather  as  a 
sweeping  application  of  the  principle  of  nation¬ 
ality  in  the  region  where  that  principle  had  been 
most  trampled  upon;  as  the  only  kind  of  settle¬ 
ment  in  any  way  acceptable  to  those  peoples  who 
were  in  the  majority  in  the  old  Hungarian  state; 
and  therefore  as  the  only  plan  that  could  restore 
peace  to  this  sorely  distracted  part  of  Europe. 


1  H.  Wickham  Steed,  Edinburgh  Rtview ,  vol.  222,  p.  234. 


244  THE  peace  conference 

I  now  pass  to  the  questions  concerning  the 
territories  on  the  Adriatic  coast,  part  of  which 
formerly  belonged  to  Austria  and  part  to  Hungary. 
All  of  these  territories  are  in  dispute  between  Italy 
and  Yugo-Slavia;  and  their  problems  taken  to¬ 
gether  make  up  the  so-called  Adriatic  question, 
which  among  all  the  problems  that  the  Peace 
Conference  has  had  to  face  has  shown  itself  the 
most  delicate,  difficult,  and  interminable. 

The  Adriatic  question  relates  mainly  to  the 
following  five  territories: 

(i)  The  province  or  ‘crownland’  of  Gorizia 
and  Gradisca;  (2)  Trieste;  (3)  Istria;  (4)  Dal¬ 
matia  —  these  four  all  formerly  parts  of  Austria; 
and  (5)  Fiume,  which  belonged  to  Hungary.  In 
addition  some  small  bits  of  the  provinces  of 
Carinthia  and  Carniola  have  been  involved  in  the 
dispute. 

All  these  territories  have  a  certain  geographic 
unity.  They  form  a  long,  narrow  fringe  of  coast- 
land  and  islands,  rigidly  separated  from  the  Yugo¬ 
slav  hinterland  by  the  successive  chains  of  the 
Julian  Alps,  the  Karst,  the  Velebite  Mountains, 
and  the  Dinaric  Alps.  These  ranges,  which  are 
the  continuation  of  the  Italian  Alps,  seem  to 
detach  the  eastern  coast  of  the  Adriatic  from  the 
world  beyond  the  mountains  and  to  orient  it 
towards  the  opposite  western  shore,  of  which  it 
appears  to  be,  in  many  respects,  only  an  extension. 
Indeed,  in  its  climate,  its  physical  aspect,  its 
vegetation;  in  the  customs  and  mode  of  life  of  its 


HUNGARY  AND  THE  ADRIATIC  245 

inhabitants;  its  seafaring  and  commercial  activi¬ 
ties,  and  its  age-long  reliance  upon  communications 
by  water  rather  than  by  land,  this  littoral  region 
resembles  Italy  much  more  than  the  Balkans. 

History  has  conformed  to  this  aspect  of  geog¬ 
raphy.  Not  only  did  Rome  long  hold  the  whole 
eastern  coast  and  plant  there  Latin  colonies  and  a 
Latin  tongue  which,  in  some  spots  at  least,  seem 
never  to  have  disappeared;  but  Venice  succeeded 
to  the  inheritance  of  Rome,  and  from  the  tenth 
century  to  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  imposed  her 
sway  over  a  large  part  of  the  eastern  littoral  and  the 
islands.  The  Slavs  had,  indeed,  penetrated  to  the 
coast  or  near  it,  in  the  seventh  century;  and  ever 
since  it  may  be  assumed  that  the  bulk  of  the  popu¬ 
lation  in  almost  every  province  on  this  coast  has 
been  of  Slavic  stock.  Nevertheless,  the  Italians 
remained  the  dominant  race  in  every  respect  save 
numbers;  theirs  was  the  language  of  business,  of 
politics,  of  society,  of  literature,  the  language  which 
almost  everyone  understood  and  tried  to  speak,  if  he 
pretended  to  be  anybody;  Italian  was  the  civiliza¬ 
tion  which  has  left  such  splendid  monuments  in 
the  duomi  and  palazzi ,  the  loggie  and  the  cam- 
panili ,  which  adorn  the  coast  cities  from  Trieste 
to  Ragusa.  It  is  no  great  exaggeration  when 
Italians  today  talk  of  eighteen  centuries  of  Italia- 
nita  in  the  lands  east  of  the  Adriatic.  Nor  is  it 
strange  that  in  Dalmatia,  with  her  vines  and 
olives,  laurels  and  cypresses,  and  here  and  there  a 
palm;  with  her  warm  Mediterranean  sun  and  ever- 


2 46  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

present  vistas  of  blue  waters;  with  her  cities 
studded  with  Roman  and  Venetian  remains,  and 
the  lion  of  San  Marco  guarding  every  older  edifice; 
the  present-day  Italian  should  feel  himself  very 
much  in  his  own  country. 

But  the  nineteenth  century  revivals  of  dormant 
nationalities  have  brought  cruel  trials  to  the  de¬ 
fenders  of  historic  civilizations.  Since  the  middle 
of  that  century,  the  Adriatic  lands  have  seen 
a  bitter  conflict  between  the  resurgent  Croats  and 
Slovenes,  who  are  in  most  cases  the  majority, 
and  the  Italians.  This  conflict  has  been  compli¬ 
cated  and  envenomed  by  the  insidious  and  some¬ 
times  violent  interventions  of  the  Austrian  and 
Hungarian  authorities,  both  anxious  to  maintain 
their  hold  upon  the  coast  by  playing  off  the  two 
chief  nationalities  of  that  region  against  one 
another.  At  Fiume  the  Magyars  systematic¬ 
ally  favored  the  Italians  in  order  to  prevent  the 
control  of  Hungary’s  one  port  by  the  Croatians. 
In  the  other  coastal  territories  the  Austrians  gen¬ 
erally  supported  and  spurred  on  the  Slavs,  who 
were  regarded  as  less  dangerous  than  the  obnox¬ 
ious  nation  which  had  brought  Austria  to  grief  in 
1859  and  1866.  Hence  at  the  present  day  both 
of  the  rival  races  can  say  that  the  natural  course 
of  development  has  been  perverted:  neither  quite 
likes  to  accept  the  ethnographic  status  quo  pro¬ 
duced  through  fifty  years  of  machinations  or  vio¬ 
lence  by  Vienna  and  Budapest. 

Down  to  the  World  War  the  contest  remained 


HUNGARY  AND  THE  ADRIATIC  247 

pretty  much  a  local  one,  attracting  no  great  amount 
of  attention  from  the  Italians  of  the  kingdom,  or 
the  outside  Yugo-Slavs,  or  the  world  at  large.  The 
other  Yugo-Slavs  had  more  pressing  problems 
nearer  home.  In  Italy  the  Carbonari  did,  indeed, 
dream  of  an  ‘Ausonian  Republic/  extending 
from  Malta  to  the  Trentino,  and  from  Trieste  to 
Cattaro;  and  such  seems  also  to  have  been  the 
ideal  of  Daniel  Manin  and  other  heroes  of  1848. 
All  Italians  agreed  that  Gorizia,  Trieste,  and  Istria 
belonged  by  nature  to  Italy  as  much  as  did  the 
Trentino  or  Venetia.  But  Dante,  in  a  much 
quoted  passage,  had  described  the  eastern  side  of 
Istria  as  the  natural  limit  of  Italy:  he  had  spoken 
of  the 

“Quarnaro  che  Italia  chiude.” 

Mazzini,  the  greatest  Italian  political  thinker  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  had  also  taken  this  to  be  the 
eastern  boundary  of  Italy,  and  had  spoken  in  the 
loftiest  terms  of  the  union  and  fraternity  that 
ought  to  reign  between  his  countrymen  and  the 
Yugo-Slavs.  There  seems  to  be  no  evidence  that 
Cavour  thought  seriously  of  claiming  anything  east 
of  the  Adriatic  —  certainly  not  Dalmatia. 

The  Italian  public  thus  had  no  very  clear  idea 
as  to  how  much  rightfully  belonged  to  their 
country  on  the  east;  and  as  time  wore  on  after  the 
close  of  the  Risorgimento  period,  that  public  more 
or  less  forgot  about  the  Italian  colonies  beyond  the 
Adriatic,  or  else  gave  them  up  as  indefensible  posi- 


248  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

tions  which  there  could  be  little  hope  of  saving. 
Thus  the  Great  War  caught  both  Italians  and 
Yugo-Slavs  rather  unprepared,  and  without  very 
definite  ideas  or  clear-cut  programmes  with  respect 
to  the  Adriatic  question. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  Italian  government 
then,  rather  hastily  perhaps,  formulated  its  pro¬ 
gramme  and  its  demands  in  the  treaty  of  London, 
of  April  26,  1915  —  the  treaty  signed  by  England, 
France,  and  Russia  in  order  to  secure  Italy’s  entry 
into  the  War.  This  treaty  promised  Italy,  in 
case  of  victory,  a  new  frontier  including  the  south¬ 
ern  Tyrol,  all  of  Gorizia,  Trieste,  all  Istria,  north¬ 
ern  Dalmatia  as  far  as  a  line  which  cuts  the  coast 
just  west  of  Trau,  and  several  of  the  larger  Dalma¬ 
tian  islands  farther  south,  including  Lissa  and  Cur- 
zola.  It  did  not  include  Fiume,  presumably 
because  the  assumption  then  was  that  Austria- 
Hungary  would  continue  to  exist  after  the  War  as  a 
great  power,  which  must  have  at  least  one  port  on 
the  Adriatic. 

This  treaty,  were  it  ever  to  be  carried  out, 
would  incorporate  in  Italy  about  800,000  Yugo- 
Slavs,  nearly  half  of  whom  live  in  Dalmatia.  It 
inevitably  created  great  resentment  at  Belgrade 
and  Agram,  and  helped  to  produce  that  regrettable 
state  of  relations  between  Italians  and  Yugo-Slavs 
which  has  had  such  unfortunate  results  in  the 
past  year.  At  any  rate,  during  the  negotiations  of 
the  past  year  the  Italians  themselves  have  elected 
not  to  adhere  to  the  strict  terms  of  the  treaty  of 


HUNGARY  AND  THE  ADRIATIC  249 

London,  but  have  shown,  I  think  it  must  be  ad¬ 
mitted,  a  genuine  willingness  to  seek  a  compromise 
more  acceptable  to  their  opponents. 

At  this  point,  it  becomes  necessary  to  consider 
the  questions  at  issue,  region  by  region. 

Gorizia,  Trieste,  and  Istria  are  three  small  ter¬ 
ritories  which,  in  Roman  times,  formed  a  part  of 
Italy  and  of  the  province  of  Venetia,  and  which 
the  modern  Italians  still  call  Venetia  Julia.  Most 
scholars  will  agree,  I  think,  that  geographically 
these  territories  belong  to  Italy,  and  that  the  Julian 
Alps  and  the  Karst  Mountains,  which  come  down 
to  the  sea  on  the  Quarnero,  mark  the  natural  fron¬ 
tier  of  Italy  on  the  northeast. 

Historically,  Venice  held  the  larger  part  of 
Istria  and  a  small  part  of  Gorizia  for  many  cen¬ 
turies  down  to  the  fall  of  the  republic  in  1797. 
Trieste  was  an  independent  commune  until  in 
1382  it  came  under  Hapsburg  rule.  The  larger 
part  of  Gorizia  and  eastern  Istria,  after  passing 
for  centuries  from  one  German  princeling  to 
another,  have  been  under  the  Hapsburgs  since  the 
close  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

Ethnographically,  Venetia  Julia  seems  to  show 
a  slight  Yugo-Slav  majority  (52%).  In  Gorizia 
there  were  in  1910  155,000  Slovenes  against 
90,000  Italians;  in  Trieste  119,000  Italians  against 
59,000  Yugo-Slavs;  in  Istria  203,000  Yugo-Slavs 
against  147,000  Italians.  But  the  Italians,  not 
without  some  show  ol  reason,  contest  these  figures 
as  being  much  too  favorable  to  their  opponents. 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


250 

owing  to  the  bias  and  the  unscrupulous  methods 
of  the  Austrian  census-takers.  Furthermore,  it 
would  be  difficult  for  even  an  honest  census  to  give 
an  accurate  picture  of  the  racial  complexities  of  a 
province  like  Istria,  which  has  been  said  to  con¬ 
tain  more  fragments  of  diverse  nationalities  than 
any  other  province  of  similar  size  in  Austria,  and 
fragments  that  generally  do  not  get  properly 
classified  in  the  census  because  there  is  no  rubric 
for  them.  What  is  one  to  do  with  such  ethno¬ 
graphic  curios  as  the  Chiches,  the  Morlaks,  the 
Rumenes  of  Istria  —  people  who  do  not  know 
what  they  are  themselves,  nor  can  any  philologist 
tell  them?  One  of  the  best  observers  of  the  region 
has  discovered  no  less  than  thirteen  “ethnographic 
nuances,”  and  such  a  confusion  and  intermixture 
of  tongues  that  even  educated  people  had  difficulty 
in  deciding  what  language  they  spoke.  He  found 
here  Croaticized  Slovenes,  and  Slovenized  Croats; 
Croaticized  Rumenes,  Italianized  Croats,  and 
Croaticized  Italians;  finally  a  population  of  whom 
all  that  could  be  said  was  that  their  costume  was 
Italian,  their  manners  Slav,  and  their  language  a 
mixture  of  everything.  Under  such  circumstances 
one  cannot  place  great  reliance  on  the  census. 

Perhaps  it  is  more  significant  that  just  before 
the  War,  out  of  seventeen  deputies  elected  from 
these  three  provinces  to  the  Reichsrat,  ten  were 
Italians,  and  only  seven  Yugo-Slavs.  In  the 
provincial  diets  the  Italians  outnumbered  the 
Slavs  two  to  one.  Seventy  per  cent  of  the  com- 


HUNGARY  AND  THE  ADRIATIC  251 

munes  are  said  to  have  had  Italian  administrations. 
Italian  was  indubitably  the  chief  language  of 
business,  of  administration,  of  the  cities,  and  of  the 
educated  classes  pretty  generally,  the  one  lan¬ 
guage  that  everybody  knew  and  without  which  it 
was  impossible  to  get  along. 

Under  these  circumstances,  it  has,  in  the  first 
place,  been  settled  that  Trieste  belongs  to  Italy. 
Of  the  Italian  character  and  sentiment  of  that  city 
throughout  its  history,  there  can  be  no  doubt. 
If  the  Yugo-Slavs  for  a  time  laid  claim  to  it,  that 
was  because  the  rural  districts  around  it  are 
Slovene  and  because  Trieste  is  the  natural  port  for 
the  Slovene  provinces  in  the  interior.  Neverthe¬ 
less,  it  would  appear  that  the  Yugo-Slavs  would 
have  been  wiser  never  to  raise  a  claim  so  obviously 
doomed  to  defeat. 

It  appears  probable  that  the  whole  of  Gorizia 
and  Istria  will  also  go  to  Italy.  This  is,  of  course, 
a  more  questionable  decision;  but,  in  view  of  the 
geographic  facts  in  the  case,  the  solidly  Italian 
population  in  the  coastal  districts,  the  preponder¬ 
ant  position  of  the  Italian  language  and  civiliza¬ 
tion  everywhere,  and  the  apparent  preponderance 
of  Italian  political  sentiment  as  measured  by  the 
elections,  this  would  seem  to  be  a  not  unfair 
solution. 

Much  more  serious  are  the  problems  presented 
by  the  remaining  two  territories:  Dalmatia  and 
Fiume. 

As  to  Dalmatia  the  Yugo-Slav  claim  can  be 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


25  2 

stated  very  simply.  That  province  had  in  1910 
a  population  of  635,000,  of  whom  611,000  (96%) 
were  Yugo-Slavs  and  only  18,000  (3%)  Italians. 
Even  if  one  admits  some  inaccuracy  in  these 
figures,  the  most  extreme  Italian  claims  do  not 
rise  above  60,000  (10%  of  the  total  population). 
All  the  deputies  sent  from  Dalmatia  to  the  Reichs- 
rat  for  many  years  back  have  been  Yugo-Slavs, 
and  the  latter  control  every  commune  in  the 
province,  save  only  the  capital  Zara.  The  Yugo¬ 
slav  predominance  is  so  overwhelming  that,  at 
first  glance,  it  is  not  easy  to  understand  how  the 
Italians  can  have  any  serious  claim  at  all. 

The  Italians  rest  their  case,  in  the  first  place, 
upon  history.  They  point  to  the  wellnigh  eighteen 
hundred  years  of  Latin  rule  in  Dalmatia:  the 
Roman  period,  the  age  of  the  independent  Latin- 
Dalmatian  communes,  the  long  sway  of  Venice, 
inaugurated  by  the  famous  expedition  of  998,  in 
honor  of  which  the  Doge  ever  afterwards  bore  the 
title  Dux  Dalmatiae ,  and  to  commemorate  which 
there  was  instituted  the  famous  annual  ceremony 
of  the  ‘wedding  of  the  sea’  by  Venice. 

The  Italians  do  not  deny  that  the  great  majority 
of  the  Dalmatian  population  has  for  centuries 
been  of  Slavic  speech.  But  they  assert  that  in 
almost  every  other  respect  this  population  is 
Italian:  in  its  customs,  costumes,  games,  in  its 
artistic,  literary,  and  musical  tastes  —  even  in  its 
cuisine.  The  whole  civilization  of  the  province  is 
Italian.  Even  as  regards  language,  there  is  no 


HUNGARY  AND  THE  ADRIATIC  253 

real  barrier:  the  Slavs  are,  most  of  them,  bilingual, 
and  even  their  own  dialect  is  studded  with  Italian- 
isms. 

Thirdly,  while  admitting  that  the  harmony 
which  long  reigned  between  the  two  races  has, 
since  1866,  given  way  to  bitter  enmity,  the  Italians 
declare  that  this  was  mainly  the  work  of  the 
Austrian  government.  Now  that  that  influence 
is  removed,  and  if  the  church,  the  school,  and  the 
gendarme  are  no  longer  used  to  stir  up  anti- 
Italian  feeling,  many  Italians  seem  to  believe  that 
the  Dalmatian  Slavs  could  be  won  back  to  the  old 
friendly  relations  and  to  peaceful  acceptance  of 
Italian  rule.  In  any  case,  can  Italy  abandon 
those  communities  which  remained  faithful  to  her 
even  during  the  period  of  Austrian  persecution  — 
that  is,  the  capital,  Zara,  and  some  of  the  islands? 

To  understand  Italian  feelings  on  this  subject, 
one  must  recall  the  long,  agonizing,  and  in  the 
main — losing  fight  of  the  last  forty  years  to  save 
the  Italian  character  of  the  Dalmatian  cities.  The 
struggle  turned  about  control  of  the  municipal 
councils,  for  it  was  they  that  decided  what  was  to 
be  the  official  language  of  the  schools  and  the 
public  services  and  which  nationality  was  to  set 
the  tone  and  get  all  the  favors  in  the  community. 
The  Austrians  seem  to  have  employed  every  form 
of  corruption,  fraud,  and  violence  to  sweep  the 
Italians  out  of  the  municipalities.  It  is  said  that 
at  the  elections  in  Spalato  in  1883  all  the  officials 
were  ordered  to  vote  Croat;  the  clergy  also;  a 


254  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

cruiser  was  sent  to  overawe  the  city;  the  election 
officials  and  the  soldiery  completed  the  intimida¬ 
tion  of  the  voters;  and  it  was  thus  that  Spalato 
was  lost  to  the  Italians.  One  after  another  the 
other  cities  succumbed,  Cattaro  and  Ragusa 
holding  out  bravely  until  1900;  and  then  only  one 
Italian  stronghold  was  left.  That  is  why  people 
in  Rome  speak  of  it  as  ‘Zara  Italianissima’ — 
any  city  that  could  defend  itself  so  long  must  have 
a  superlative  character  about  its  patriotism; 
and  this  is  why  the  Italians  have  been  so  anxious 
to  save  at  least  that  last  bulwark  of  Latin  Dalmatia. 

Fourthly,  the  Italian  argument  dwells  upon  the 
geographic  character  of  the  province  —  shut  off 
from  Yugo-Slavia  by  rough  and  savage  mountains, 
united  to  Italy  by  the  sea  over  which  practically 
all  its  external  communications  are  carried  on. 
Ratzel  declared  that  Dalmatia  lived  like  an  island, 
and  Freeman  compared  it  to  a  branch  cast  forth 
from  Italy  across  the  Adriatic. 

Finally,  the  Italians  invoke  strategic  reasons  for 
demanding  at  least  a  part  of  Dalmatia.  The 
Adriatic  Sea  forms  a  narrow  couloir,  about  400 
miles  in  length  but  in  places  scarcely  100  miles 
across.  The  western  coast  of  that  sea,  the  Italian 
side,  is  almost  destitute  of  harbors  that  could 
serve  as  defensive  naval  bases;  while  on  the  eastern 
side  the  Dalmatian  coast,  with  its  many  fine  ports, 
its  protecting  chains  of  islands,  its  labyrinth  of 
back  channels  and  concealed  inner  basins,  offers 
the  most  marvellous  basis  for  naval  operations. 


HUNGARY  AND  THE  ADRIATIC  255 

Obviously,  the  Italian  fleet,  with  its  bases  at 
Venice  and  Pola  at  one  end  of  the  Adriatic  and 
Brindisi  at  the  other,  would  be  at  a  grave  dis¬ 
advantage  as  against  a  naval  power  planted  mid¬ 
way  in  the  couloir  in  the  impregnable  strongholds 
of  Dalmatia.  And  if  it  is  said  that  Yugo-Slavia  is 
never  likely  to  have  such  a  fleet  as  would  be  a 
serious  menace,  the  Italians  reply  that  even  a 
small  fleet  of  cruisers,  lurking  in  the  recesses  of  the 
Dalmatian  coast,  could  be  a  scourge  to  Italian 
commerce  and  to  the  unprotected  coast  of  Italy 
only  three  hours  distant;  and  for  submarine  bases 
Dalmatia  offers  unrivalled  advantages,  as  the 
World  War  has  shown.  Hence,  it  is  argued, 
Dalmatia  is  necessary  to  Italy’s  security.  Without 
it,  her  long  and  vulnerable  flank  will  remain 
undefended  and  indefensible. 

I  have  tried  to  set  forth  the  Italian  side  of  the 
Dalmatian  question  at  some  length,  because  it  is 
far  less  simple  and  obvious  than  the  Yugo-Slav 
standpoint.  Nevertheless,  I  am  inclined  to  think 
that  the  latter  case  is  the  stronger.  In  view  of  the 
overwhelming  Yugo-Slav  majority  and  the  attitude 
which,  from  whatever  cause,  the  Dalmatian  Slavs 
have  come  to  adopt  towards  the  Italians,  the 
assignment  of  any  considerable  part  of  the  province 
to  Italy  would,  I  believe,  be  a  grave  violation  of 
the  principles  of  the  Allies,  and  a  source  of  endless 
embarrassments  for  Italy. 

After  a  year  of  discussions  the  Italian  govern¬ 
ment  has  come  to  the  point  where,  if  it  can  obtain 


256  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

a  satisfactory  settlement  as  to  Fiume,  it  seems 
willing  to  drop  its  claims  to  Dalmatia,  except  for 
a  couple  of  points.  For  strategical  purposes  it 
still  demands  the  island  of  Lissa,  which  Mazzini 
called  “the  Malta  of  the  Adriatic”— a  claim 
that  seems  not  unreasonable;  and  it  is  also  ap¬ 
parently  asking  that  Zara  should  be  constituted 
a  free  city  —  which  might  be  of  questionable 
advantage  for  Zara. 

The  main  contest,  then,  is  over  Fiume. 

/Fiume  is  a  rather  small  place  in  proportion  to 
the  commotion  it  has  excited  in  the  world  a 
city  of  about  50,000  people.  Who  founded  it  or 
when,  we  do  not  exactly  know.  It  appears  in  the 
later  Middle  Ages  as  a  small  self-governing  com¬ 
mune  of  the  Italian  type,  which  in  1465  passed 
under  the  suzerainty  of  the  Hapsburgs,  and  was 
by  them  treated  as  a  part  of  their  hereditary 
Austrian  lands  until  in  1776-79  Maria  Theresia, 
wishing  to  endow  the  Magyars  with  a  port  of 
their  own,  transferred  the  city  to  the  kingdom  of 
Hungary.  Amid  all  these  changes,  the  ‘Magnifi¬ 
cent  Community’  of  Fiume  kept  up  its  self- 
government  and  a  very  strong  spirit  of  local 
independence.  Indeed,  down  to  a  few  years  ago, 
at  least,  the  only  patriotism  that  the  Fiumani 
knew  was  an  intense  love  for  their  own  little  city. 
This  spirit  helped  to  preserve  them  from  ever 
falling  under  the  rule  of  Venice  or  any  other 
Italian  state;  and,  equally,  it  led  them  to  fight 
strenuously  at  various  times  against  the  incor- 


HUNGARY  AND  THE  ADRIATIC  257 

poration  of  their  city  in  the  kingdom  of  Croatia, 
which  the  Diet  of  Agram  was  always  trying  to 
put  through.  On  the  other  hand,  they  long 
accepted  with  enthusiasm  the  union  with  Hungary, 
which  did  not  seem  to  threaten  their  independence 
and  which  brought  great  economic  advantages  to 
their  city  as  the  single  port  of  the  Magyar  kingdom. 

As  far  back  as  we  can  trace  it,  the  population  of 
Fiume  seems  always  to  have  been  a  mixed  one  — 
in  part  Croatian,  in  part  Italian.  It  could  hardly 
be  otherwise  with  a  city  whose  hinterland  was 
solidly  Croatian,  but  whose  commercial  relations 
were  mainly  with  Italy.  Hence  it  appears  that 
the  lower  classes  of  the  population  were  always 
chiefly  Croats,  constantly  replenished  from  the 
country  districts,  while  the  upper  classes  were 
partly  of  the  one  race,  partly  of  the  other.  But 
Italian  was  the  language  of  society,  of  business, 
and  of  government,  and  to  it  the  citizens  were 
much  attached.  During  the  struggles  of  the 
period  between  1848  and  1867,  when  annexation 
to  Croatia  was  always  staring  them  in  the  face, 
the  municipal  authorities  again  and  again  peti¬ 
tioned  the  Emperor  not  to  permit  the  violation  of 
“the  sacred  rights  of  the  Italian  language,”  “the 
tongue  that  has  been  spoken  here  ever  since  Fiume 
existed.”  “It  would  be  superfluous,”  they  de¬ 
clare,  “to  demonstrate  what  is  universally  known, 
that  in  Fiume  the  Italian  idiom  has  for  centuries 
been  the  language  of  the  school,  of  the  forum,  of 
commerce,  of  every  public  and  private  meeting; 


258  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

in  short,  it  is  the  language  of  the  community,  and 
one  of  the  chief  sources  to  which  it  owes  its  grade 
of  culture  and  of  commercial  and  industrial 
progress.” 

Two  races  living  together  in  harmony,  un¬ 
touched  by  any  national  feeling,  swayed  only  by 
love  of  their  city-state,  devotion  to  its  time- 
honored  customs,  including  the  use  of  the  Italian 
language,  and  zeal  for  the  connection  with  Hun¬ 
gary,  on  which  their  economic  prosperity  depended 
—  these  conditions  began  to  break  down  after 
1867.  The  great  development  of  the  port  carried 
out  by  the  Hungarian  government  brought  in  a 
flood  of  new  citizens  —  mainly  Italians,  since  the 
Magyars  favored  that  element.  It  was  at  this 
time  that  the  Italians  seem  to  have  gained  the 
numerical  preponderance  in  the  city.  Then,  in 
the  last  few  decades,  the  importation  of  Magyars 
set  in,  at  such  a  rate  that  the  Italian  ruling  class 
in  alarm  concluded  that  the  government  at 
Budapest  was  bent  on  Magyarizing  the  city  and 
that  their  connection  with  Hungary  was  not  so 
comfortable  after  all.  Hence  there  arose  a  new 
Italo-Magyar  conflict  to  complicate  the  struggle 
that  had  already  broken  out  between  the  Italians 
and  the  Yugo-Slavs.  Now  at  last  the  Italian- 
speaking  population  began  to  turn  their  eyes 
across  the  Adriatic  for  liberators,  and  the  Croat¬ 
speaking  citizens  began  to  sigh  for  the  Jugo¬ 
slav  fatherland. 

In  the  Fiume  problem,  as  it  presents  itself  today, 


HUNGARY  AND  THE  ADRIATIC  259 

the  respective  roles  of  the  Italians  and  the  Yugo¬ 
slavs  are  just  the  opposite  of  what  they  are  in 
Dalmatia.  In  the  case  of  Fiume,  the  Italian 
argument  rests  solely  on  the  rights  of  nationality 
and  the  alleged  wishes  of  the  population. 

The  Italians  point  out,  in  the  first  place,  that 
at  the  last  Hungarian  census  (in  1910)  the  city 
contained  about  24,000  Italians  (not  counting  6000 
subjects  of  the  kingdom  of  Italy),  as  against 
16,000  Yugo-Slavs.  To  this  the  Yugo-Slavs  retort 
that  the  Italian  majority  has  been  built  up  in  the 
last  few  decades  through  the  deliberate  policy  of 
the  Magyar  government;  and  that  if  the  suburb 
of  Susak,  which  is  practically  part  of  the  city,  and 
the  adjacent  rural  district  were  reckoned  into  the 
account,  the  Fiume  territory  would  contain  as 
many  Yugo-Slavs  as  Italians. 

Secondly,  the  Italians  lay  great  weight  upon 
the  declarations  of  the  National  Council  of  Fiume 
and  upon  a  plebiscite  held  in  the  city  soon  after 
the  Armistice,  as  voicing  the  desire  of  the  Fiumani 
to  be  united  to  Italy.  The  Yugo-Slavs  deny  that 
either  of  these  things  can  be  taken  as  a  free  and 
genuine  expression  of  the  wishes  of  the  inhabitants. 

At  any  rate,  the  Yugo-Slavs  rest  their  argument 
mainly  on  other  grounds.  They  maintain  that 
Fiume  is  as  naturally  soldered  on  to  their  new 
state  as  Marseilles  is  to  France;  that  this  is  the 
only  satisfactory  port  on  the  Adriatic  that  that 
state  can  obtain;  that  its  control  by  Italy  would 
mean  an  intolerable  subjection  of  Yugo-Slavia 


z6o  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

to  her  neighbor;  and  that  it  is  inconceivable 
that  their  one  good  port  should  be  taken  away 
from  them  simply  because  within  the  walls  of  the 
city  itself,  not  counting  in  the  suburbs  on  which  it 
vitally  depends,  Magyar  machinations  have  built 
up  an  artificial  plurality  of  barely  8000  Italians. 

The  Italians,  of  course,  assert  that  farther  south 
the  Adriatic  coast  is  full  of  good  harbors,  which 
could  amply  provide  for  the  rather  scanty  trade  of 
Yugo-Slavia.  But  it  must  be  admitted  that  the 
mountain  wall,  which  lines  the  coast  from  Fiume 
southward  to  the  Drin,  opposes  very  great  obsta¬ 
cles  to  the  opening  up  of  a  satisfactory  outlet 
through  the  Dalmatian  ports.  At  present  there 
is,  south  of  Fiume,  only  a  single  railway  through 
to  the  coast  —  the  wretched,  winding  rack-and- 
pimon  road  which  comes  down  from  Bosnia  to 
Metkovic  and  Ragusa.  It  would  be  extremely 
difficult  and  expensive  to  develop  and  operate  this 
line  as  a  first-class  railroad,  and  to  link  it  up  with 
the  various  parts  of  the  Yugo-Slav  state.  Un¬ 
doubtedly  Fiume  is  the  natural  gate  of  Yugo¬ 
slavia  to  the  West;  it  is  the  only  port  that  is  well 
equipped  today  and  that  could  easily  adapt  itself 
to  the  existing  lines  of  communication.  Even 
granted  that  another  outlet  could  be  developed 
farther  south,  it  would  require  many  years’  time 
and  the  expenditure  of  millions  of  dollars  to  bring 
this  about. 

It  was,  I  think,  because  of  the  undeniable  weight 
of  such  considerations,  and  in  order  that  the  new, 


HUNGARY  AND  THE  ADRIATIC  261 


poor,  struggling  state  of  the  Yugo-Slavs  should 
not  be  terribly  handicapped  at  the  outset  by  being 
denied  that  secure  access  to  the  sea  for  which 
Serbia  had  fought  so  long,  that  the  American 
delegation  at  Paris  took  the  stand  it  did  on  the 
Fiume  question. 

After  going  through  many  phases  and  fluctua¬ 
tions,  this  question  appears  to  be  at  least  appreci¬ 
ably  nearer  to  a  solution.  The  margin  of  difference 
between  the  two  sides  has  now  been  reduced  to  a 
few  points.  If  Italy  gives  way  altogether  on 
Dalmatia,  it  would  seem  only  fair  that  the  Yugo- 
STavs^should  make  some  concessions  as  to  Fiume, 
providing  their  economic  interests  can  be  reason¬ 
ably  insured.  And  it  cannot  be  too  strongly 
desired  that  if  a  compromise  can  be  effected,  the 
Yugo-Slavs  recognizing  their  great  debt  to  Italy, 
and  the  Italians  recognizing  the  right  to  unity  and 
independence  of  Yugo-Slavia,  the  two  nations 
should  go  back  to  that  attitude  of  mutual  respect, 
cooperation,  and  fraternity  which  was  the  ideal  of 
the  noblest  and  most  far-sighted  Italian  statesman 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  the  great  Mazzini. 

Bibliographical  Note 

Probably  the  best  history  of  Hungary  available  in  any  Western 
language  is  that  by  E.  Sayous:  Histoire  generate  des  Hongrois, 
Budapest,  1900. 

Conditions  in  Hungary  before  the  War  are  described  from  the 
Magyar  point  of  view  in:  Percy  Alden  (ed.),  Hungary  of  Today. 
By  members  of  the  Hungarian  Government.  (Apponyi,  Kossuth, 
Wekerle,  etc.)  London,  1909.  C.  M.  Knatchbull-Hugessen,  The 
Political  Evolution  of  the  Hungarian  Nation.  2  vols.  London,  1908. 


262  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

The  author  who  has  done  more  than  any  other  one  man,  perhaps, 
to  expose  the  tyranny  of  the  old  Magyar  regime  to  the  Western 
public,  is  R.  W.  Seton-Watson,  who  at  first  wrote  under  the  pseu¬ 
donym  of  ‘Scotus  Viator.’  His  chief  books  on  this  subject  are: 
Racial  Problems  in  Hungary,  London,  1908;  Corruption  and  Reform 
in  Hungary:  a  study  of  electoral  practice,  ibid.,  1911;  The  Southern 
Slav  Question  and  the  Habsburg  Monarchy,  ibid.,  1911. 

The  Roumanian  problem  in  Hungary  naturally  forms  a  chief 
topic  in  another  recent  work  by  Mr.  Seton-Watson:  Roumania  and 
the  Great  War,  London,  1915.  Other  noteworthy  expositions  of 
Roumania’s  claims  to  what  was  eastern  Hungary  are  to  be  found  in: 
M.  R.  Sirianu,  La  Question  de  Transylvanie  et  I'unite  politique 
roumaine.  Paris,  1916.  D.  Draghicesco,  Les  problemes  nationaux 
de  I' Autriche-Hongrie.  Les  Roumains.  Paris,  1918.  N.  P.  Com- 
nene,  Roumania  through  the  Ages.  An  historical,  political,  and 
ethnographical  atlas.  Paris,  1919. 

A  rather  copious  literature  has  grown  up  lately  around  the 
Yugo-Slav  movement.  Among  the  most  useful  works  on  that 
subject  are:  A.  H.  E.  Taylor,  The  Future  of  the  Southern  Slavs. 
New  York,  1917.  V.  R.  Savic ,  South-Eastern  Europe.  New  York, 

1918.  E.  Denis,  La  grande  Serbie.  Paris,  1915.  R.  J.  Kerner, 
The  Jugo-Slav  Movement.  Cambridge,  Mass.,  1918. 

For  Italian  views  on  the  group  of  questions  relating  to  the 
Adriatic  provinces,  one  would  turn  especially  to:  V.  Gayda, 
L' Italia  d'oltre  confini.  Turin,  1914.  A.  Tamaro,  Ita/iani  e  S/avi 
nell’  Adriatico.  Rome,  1915.  *  *  *,  L' Adriatico.  Studio  geogra- 

fico,  storico,  e  politico.  Milan,  1915.  Adriacus.  From  Trieste  to 
Valona.  The  Adriatic  Problem  and  Italy's  Aspirations.  Milan, 

1919.  G.  Dainelli,  La  Dahnazia,  sua  italianita,  suo  valore  per  la 
liberta  d’ltalia  nell' Adriatico.  Genoa,  1915.  Dainelli  has  also 
published  a  useful  atlas  of  Dalmatia,  entitled  La  Dalmazia.  Cenni 
geografici  e  statistici.  Novara,  1918.  A.  Hodnig,  Fiume italiana 
e  la  sua  funzione  antigermanica.  Rome,  1917*  G.  Depoli,  Fiume 
e  la  Liburnia.  Bari,  1919. 

On  the  Fiume  question  it  is  also  useful  to  consult  V.  Tomsich, 
Notizie  storiche  sulla  citth  di  Fiume,  Fiume,  1886  (the  fullest  history 
of  the  city.  Written  in  a  vein  of  intense  local  patriotism,  in  the 
spirit  of  the  old  Fiumano  independence  party);  Sisic,  Abrege  de 
I’histoire  politique  de  Rieka-Fiume,  Paris,  1919  (review  of  the 
history  from  the  Croatian  point  of  view);  and  the  brochure  Fiume, 
arguing  for  Yugo-Slav  claims,  published  at  Paris  in  1916  by  Count 
Voinovitch  and  others. 


V 


EXPLANATION 
Frontier  promised  to  Italy0 
by  the  Treaty  of  London(1915) 

shown  thus . 

"Wilson  Line” - 

Proposed  Republic  of  Fiume  \ 
Part  of  Tugo-Slav  frontier..... 


^Va 

y. 

y 

onaVi 

j 

=>  40 

%  « 

O 

VIII 

THE  BALKANS 


It  was  in  the  Balkans  that  the  World  War  started; 
control  of  the  Balkans  was  one  of  the  primary 
objects  for  which  the  Central  Powers  fought; 


through  the  intervention  of  our  Balkan  opponents, 
Turkey  and  Bulgaria,  the  War  was  prolonged  far 
beyond  what  would  probably  otherwise  have  been 
the  case;  and  it  was  in  the  Balkans  that  the 
victory  of  the  Entente  was  earliest  and,  perhaps, 
most  decisively  won. 

Nevertheless,  the  War  has  produced,  or  is  likely 
to  produce,  fewer  and  much  less  sweeping  changes 
of  territory  in  the  Balkans  than  in  the  case  of 
Austria-Hungary  or  Germany.  It  will  probably 
alter  the  map  of  the  Peninsula  less  than  did  almost 
any  other  of  the  Balkan  cataclysms  of  the  last 
hundred  years.  That  is  partly  because  one  of 
our  late  enemies,  the  Sick  Man  on  the  Bosporus, 
had  already  handed  over  so  much  of  his  estate  to 
his  impatient  heirs  that  in  Europe  at  least  very 
little  remains  to  be  liquidated;  while  our  other 
enemy  at  Sofia  possessed  very  little  land  that  was 
not  Bulgarian  in  population,  and  it  was  not  the 
policy  of  the  Allies  to  take  away  territory  simply 
by  way  of  retribution.  But  the  main  reason  why 
no  very  large  alterations  of  frontiers  are  now  in 
process,  is  that  the  most  contentious  territorial 
questions  of  the  Peninsula  were  settled  by  the  two 


263 


264  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

Balkan  wars  of  1912-13  and  the  ensuing  Peace  of 
Bucharest.  Whether  they  were  rightly  settled  at 
that  time  is  a  topic  to  which  I  may  revert  a  little 
later.  At  any  rate,  they  were  settled  in  a  sense 
favorable  to  our  allies,  Greece,  Serbia,  and  Rou- 
mania.  And  the  most  salient  feature  of  the 
Balkan  settlement  made  by  the  Conference  at 
Paris  is  that  it  essentially  confirms  the  settlement 
made  by  the  Peace  of  Bucharest. 

Bulgaria  escapes  with  far  slighter  losses  than 
any  other  member  of  the  defeated  alliance. 
Nevertheless,  she  is  quite  as  indignant  as  any  of 
the  rest  of  them  over  the  peace  treaty  imposed 
upon  her  (the  treaty  signed  at  Neuilly,  Novem¬ 
ber  27,  1919).  But  she  is  indignant,  not  so 
much  over  what  she  has  lost,  as  over  what  she  has 
failed  to  gain.  There  is,  of  course,  not  a  little 
irony  in  the  fact  that  at  the  close  of  a  war  which 
she  entered  so  perfidiously,  conducted  so  brutally, 
and  ended  so  disastrously,  Bulgaria  should  still 
be  clamoring  that  to  the  vanquished  belong  the 
spoils,  and  should  be  demanding  that  the  Entente 
hand  over  to  her,  at  the  expense  of  its  Greek  and 
Serbian  allies,  the  lands  which  she  hoped  to  gain 
by  fighting  throughout  the  War  on  the  side  of  the 
Germans.  But  there  is  another  way  of  looking  at 
the  matter.  Bulgaria  and  her  many  friends  abroad 
regard  the  Peace  of  Bucharest  as  a  monstrous 
iniquity  —  the  dismemberment  of  the  Bulgarian 
nation  at  the  hands  of  its  rapacious  neighbors. 
Therefore,  it  is  argued,  at  a  time  when  the  victo- 


THE  BALKANS 


265 

rious  Allies  are  remaking  the  map  of  Europe  on  the 
basis  of  the  principle  of  nationality  and  of  impar¬ 
tial  even-handed  justice,  it  is  only  right  that 
‘the  crime  of  1913’  should  be  undone,  and  that 
Bulgaria  should  be  allowed  to  attain  her  national 
unity,  as  Greece,  Serbia,  and  Roumania  are  doing 
in  such  rich  measure.  And  unless  that  is  done,  it 
is  said,  there  can  be  no  stable  peace  in  the  Balkans. 

Since  the  discussion  of  the  new  settlement  thus 
turns  largely  on  the  merits  of  the  Peace  of  Bucha¬ 
rest,  it  is  necessary  to  revert  briefly  to  the  main 
facts  connected  with  that  treaty. 

In  the  First  Balkan  War  (1912-13),  the  four 
small  allies  —  Bulgaria,  Serbia,  Greece,  and  Monte¬ 
negro —  had  brought  the  Turkish  giant  to  earth 
with  an  ease  and  rapidity  that  astonished  the 
world,  and  themselves,  perhaps,  most  of  all.  By 
the  peace  treaty  signed  at  London  May  30,  1913, 
all  of  the  Turkish  possessions  in  Europe  were 
ceded  to  the  victors,  except  for  the  district  along 
the  Straits,  bounded  by  the  famous  Enos-Midia 
line,  which  was  to  be  left  to  the  Sultan,  and  Al¬ 
bania,  which  was  to  be  made  independent  —  the 
one  case  in  history  of  a  people  that  owes  its  liberty 
to  Austria-Hungary.  As  everyone  remembers, 
there  then  arose  a  dispute  among  the  victors  as 
to  the  distribution  of  the  spoils.  While  negotia¬ 
tions  were  still  going  on  and  the  other  states  were 
willing  to  accept  the  proffered  arbitration  of  Rus¬ 
sia,  Bulgaria,  carried  away  by  a  truly  Prussian 
arrogance  and  recklessness,  attempted  to  seize 


266  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


what  she  wanted  by  suddenly  and  treacherously 
attacking  her  late  allies.  This  precipitated  the 
Second  Balkan  War,  in  which  the  despised  Greeks 
and  Serbs  were  completely  victorious,  while  Rou- 
mania  and  Turkey  also  intervened  to  complete 
Bulgaria’s  discomfiture.  The  upshot  was  the 
Peace  of  Bucharest,  of  August  io,  1913. 

By  that  famous  treaty,  Macedonia,  the  chief 
object  of  the  dispute,  was  divided  up  between 
Serbia  and  Greece,  the  former  taking  the  northern 
and  central  parts,  the  latter  the  southern  and 
southeastern.  Bulgaria  received  only  a  small 
fragment  of  Macedonia  —  the  Strumica  salient  — 
together  with  some  territory  in  Western  Thrace, 
which  gave  her  a  narrow  frontage  on  the  Aegean 
and  the  two  mediocre  harbors  of  Porto  Lago  and 
Dedeagach.  Eastern  Thrace,  including  Adrian- 
ople,  was  restored  to  Turkey.  Finally,  Bulgaria 
had  to  cede  to  Roumania  the  territory  called  the 
Southern  Dobrudja. 

The  net  result  was,  in  the  first  place,  a  great 
shift  in  the  Balkan  balance  of  power  in  favor  of 
Greece  and  Serbia,  both  of  which  had  formerly 
been  far  smaller  and  weaker  than  Bulgaria,  but 
both  of  which,  after  nearly  doubling  their  terri¬ 
tories,  had  now  virtually  caught  up  with  their 
neighbor;  and,  secondly,  that  Bulgaria  came  forth 
from  the  crisis  mortally  exasperated  over  the  loss 
of  her  old  territory  in  the  Dobrudja  and  of  the  new 
territories  she  had  hoped  to  gain  in  Thrace  and 
Macedonia.  It  is,  above  all,  the  Macedonian 


THE  BALKANS 


267 

question  that  has  rankled  in  her  mind  ever  since. 
For  many  decades  Macedonia  has  been  the 
Promised  Land  to  the  Bulgars:  it  has  undoubtedly 
meant  for  them  at  least  as  much  as  Alsace  and 
Lorraine  to  the  French.  Once  they  had  had  it  in 
their  grasp,  in  1878  when  Russia  won  it  for  them 
by  the  treaty  of  San  Stefano  —  and  then  the  Con¬ 
gress  of  Berlin  restored  it  to  Turkey.  Again  in 
1912  they  believed  that  they  had  secured  it  —  and 
it  was  taken  away  from  them  by  their  allies.  A 
third  time  they  had  it,  during  the  present  War, — 
and  the  Peace  Conference  has  restored  it  to  Greece 
and  Serbia,  in  accordance  with  the  Peace  of 
Bucharest. 

What  are  the  rights  and  wrongs  in  the  case? 
Has  the  Peace  Conference  simply  perpetuated  a 
great  injustice,  repeated  the  mistake  of  the  Con¬ 
gress  of  Berlin,  deprived  the  Bulgarians  of  a 
province  which  is  theirs  by  right  of  nationality  and 
without  which  they  can  never  rest? 

The  Macedonian  question  has  been  before  the 
world  a  sufficiently  long  time  to  have  thoroughly 
wearied  most  people  of  it,  perhaps,  but  not  long 
enough  to  produce  a  clear  understanding  or  any 
real  unanimity  of  opinion  about  it.  It  presents, 
on  the  one  hand,  such  a  medley  of  jarring  races, 
long-standing  animosities,  and  ever-recurring  atro¬ 
cities,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  such  a  jumble  of 
ethnographic  riddles,  philological  controversies, 
psychological  uncertainties,  unreliable  statistics, 
assertions  and  counter-assertions  flatly  contra- 


268  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

dictory  on  every  point,  that  one  almost  despairs  of 
an  idea  as  to  how  it  ought  to  be  settled,  or  of  the 
hope  of  ever  seeing  it  settled  at  all. 

Macedonia  contained  in  1910  —  nobody  knows 
what  it  contains  now,  after  the  last  three  wars  *  ■ 
over  two  million  people,  including  about  1,300,000 
Slavs,  300,000  Greeks,  and  scattered  minorities 
of  Turks,  Albanians,  Vlachs,  Jews,  and  Gypsies. 
The  Greeks  predominate  in  the  south  and  south¬ 
east,  and  can  make  out  a  very  good  claim  on  eth¬ 
nographic  grounds  to  most  of  that  part  of  Mace¬ 
donia  which  they  acquired  in  1913.  The  dispute 
turns  much  more  upon  central  and  northern  Mace¬ 
donia,  where  the  Slavs  predominate,  and  upon  the 
question  whether  these  Slavs  ought  to  be  con¬ 
sidered  as  mainly  Bulgarians  or  Serbs. 

For  the  elucidation  of  this  question,  it  is  necessary 
to  go  very  far  afield.  When  the  Southern  Slavs 
first  settled  in  the  Balkans,  they  formed  a  great, 
undifferentiated  mass,  stretching  from  the  Alps  and 
the  Adriatic  to  the  Aegean  and  the  Black  Sea  — 
a  mass  of  ethnographic  raw  material  out  of  which 
almost  any  number  of  ‘nations’  and  ‘languages 
might  have  been  developed  in  accordance  with 
the  accidents  of  history.  As  it  turned  out,  two 
centres  of  political  crystallization  arose  —  a  north¬ 
eastern  centre,  in  the  region  between  the  Balkan 
Mountains  and  the  Danube,  where  a  Turanian 
people  called  Bulgars  organized  the  Slavs  into  a 
state  to  which  they  —  the  original  Bulgars  — 
contributed  little  except  the  name  and  the  ruling 


THE  BALKANS 


269 

class;  and  a  northwestern  centre  of  crystalliza¬ 
tion  in  Serbia  and  Montenegro.  The  modern  Serb 
and  the  modern  Bulgarian  nations  are  closely  akin 
in  language  and  in  blood,  although  the  Bulgars 
have  a  certain  Turanian  strain  in  them,  while  the 
Serbs  boast  of  being  ‘pure  Slavs.’  Sprung  from 
substantially  the  same  stock,  the  two  nations  have 
throughout  their  history  vied  with  each  other  in 
trying  to  draw  to  themselves  as  large  as  possible  a 
part  of  their  kinsmen;  and  it  is  not  surprising  if 
the  Macedonian  Slavs,  lying  midway  between  the 
two  centres  of  gravitation,  have  been  attracted, 
now  to  the  one  and  now  to  the  other,  without  ever 
apparently  taking  on  completely  the  imprint  of 
either. 

In  the  Middle  Ages,  when  frontiers  in  the 
Balkans  were,  if  possible,  even  more  fluid  than 
they  have  been  in  recent  times,  Macedonia  was 
most  frequently  under  the  rule  of  the  Greeks. 
It  was,  however,  held  by  Bulgaria  from  about 
860  to  1018  and  again  for  some  years  in  the 
thirteenth  century;  and  from  about  1260  down  to 
the  Turkish  conquest  in  1389  it  belonged  to  the 
Serbian  empire.  From  these  rather  brief  periods 
of  tenure  both  nations  draw  their  claims  to  ‘his¬ 
toric  rights’  over  Macedonia  today,  and  a  fund  of 
proud  historic  memories  which  lend  warmth  and 
passion  to  those  claims.  King  Ferdinand  of 
Bulgaria  promoted  himself  to  be  ‘Tsar’  in  imita¬ 
tion  of  the  Bulgarian  tsars  of  the  Middle  Ages 
who  ruled  over  Macedonia.  The  Prince  Regent 


270  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

of  Serbia  today  addresses  the  Macedonians  as 
“sons  of  Stephen  Dushan,”  in  allusion  to  the 
great  Serbian  emperor  of  the  fourteenth  century 
whose  capital  was  Uskub  in  Macedonia.  It  seems 
undeniable  that  the  period  of  Serbian  rule  made  a 
much  deeper  impression  on  the  country  than  did 
the  Bulgarian.  Not  only  is  Macedonia  strewn 
with  churches,  monasteries,  and  works  of  art  re¬ 
calling  the  great  days  of  Serbia,  while  similar  Bul¬ 
garian  monuments  are  almost  totally  lacking; 
but  the  wonderfully  rich  ballad  literature,  through 
which  alone  the  Macedonian  Slavs  express  what¬ 
ever  historic  memories  they  have,  dwells  exclu¬ 
sively  upon  the  heroes  of  the  Serbian  past,  with 
never  the  mention  of  a  Bulgarian. 

At  any  rate,  the  ensuing  five  hundred  years  of 
stagnation  and  isolation  under  Turkish  rule 
afforded  the  Macedonians  ample  time  to  forget 
which  of  their  kinsmen  they  preferred  to  be  asso¬ 
ciated  with,  and  to  lose  whatever  national  con¬ 
sciousness  they  had  possessed.  When  the  Serb  and 
Bulgarian  national  revivals  began  in  the  early 
nineteenth  century,  Macedonia  was  more  or  less 
no-man’s-land;  and  either  movement  might  sweep 
the  field,  provided  it  got  started  early  enough. 
Fortune  seemed  for  a  while  to  be  with  the  Bul¬ 
garians.  For  many  years  all  of  Russia’s  powerful 
influence  was  cast  in  their  favor,  since  Russia 
regarded  the  Serbs  as  Austria’s  proteges.  The 
Turks  also  thought  it  very  clever  to  favor  the 
Bulgarians,  who  seldom  or  never  revolted,  against 


THE  BALKANS  271 

the  Serbs  who  never  did  anything  else  but  rebel. 
Hence  the  Bulgarians  got  the  start,  and  for  some 
decades  they  could  conduct  religious,  educa¬ 
tional,  and  nationalist  work  in  Macedonia,  while 
Serb  influences  were  in  the  main  barred  out. 
What  particularly  helped  the  process  of  Bulgariza- 
tion  was  the  formation  in  1870  of  the  independent 
Bulgarian  (or  Exarchist)  church,  a  body  which 
could  offer  the  Macedonian  Slavs  the  things  which 
they  seem  to  have  craved  above  all  others  at  that 
time:  emancipation  from  the  Greek  clergy,  and 
the  church  service  in  a  tongue  which  they  could 
understand.  Hence  a  general  stampede  to  the 
Exarchist  church,  restrained  only  by  the  calcula¬ 
tion  that  it  was  materially  more  expensive  to  get 
christened,  married,  or  buried  by  that  business¬ 
like  body  than  by  the  old  Patriarchist  or  Greek 
church.  Once  inside  the  Exarchist  fold,  you  were 
regarded  by  the  authorities  as  a  Bulgarian  and 
taught  by  your  religious  superiors  that  you  must 
feel  yourself  one. 

After  the  formation  of  the  new  Bulgarian  state 
in  1878,  the  Bulgarian  nationalist  propaganda  in 
Macedonia  went  forward  with  redoubled  vigor. 
It  was  carried  on  from  Sofia  and  from  the  seat  of 
the  Exarchate  at  Constantinople  with  all  the 
means  and  by  all  the  devices  that  the  government 
and  the  church  could  bring  to  bear.  Meanwhile 
the  Turks,  somewhat  disillusioned  as  to  the 
harmlessness  of  their  Bulgarian  proteges  and 
always  experts  at  the  art  of  playing  the  Christians 


272  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

off  against  each  other,  determined  to  open  the  door 
to  rival  influences.  Hence  in  the  late  ’80s  and  the 
’90s  the  Serbs  could  at  last  rush  in  and  strive  to 
make  up  for  lost  time  by  organizing  a  rival  propa¬ 
ganda,  with  all  the  paraphernalia  of  Serbian 
bishops,  churches,  schools,  etc.  As  the  Greeks 
were  also  busily  engaged  in  the  same  kind  of  work, 
the  Macedonian  question  then  entered  that  acute 
phase  which  so  delighted  the  Turks  and  wore  out 
the  nerves  of  Europe  —  that  desperate  and  san¬ 
guinary  melee,  in  which  the  three  rival  races  strove 
to  spread  their  ‘national  culture,’  not  only  by 
furiously  proselytizing  the  unfortunate  Mace¬ 
donians,  but  by  exterminating  each  other.  It 
must  be  admitted  that  in  both  forms  of  activity 
the  Bulgarians  came  out  ahead.  Not  only  did 
their  komitadjis  dominate  the  blood-stained  field, 
but  they  had  a  network  of  schools  and  churches 
quite  surpassing  either  of  their  rivals.  Refugees 
from  Macedonia  also  seem  to  have  fled  to  Bulgaria 
in  larger  numbers  than  to  Serbia  or  Greece;  and 
indeed  they  formed  a  very  active  and  influential 
element  at  Sofia,  which  did  not  permit  the  Bul¬ 
garian  government  to  forget  the  Macedonian  ques¬ 
tion  for  a  moment. 

On  the  eve  of  the  Balkan  Wars,  the  situation 
might  be  summarized  by  saying  that  a  section  of 
the  Macedonian  Slavs  had  more  or  less  warmly 
adopted  the  Bulgarian  cause,  and  another,  prob¬ 
ably  smaller,  section,  the  Serbian  cause,  and  —  it 
seems  to  me  —  the  great  mass  of  this  population 


THE  BALKANS 


273 


was  still  lying  inert  and  undecided,  untouched  by 
any  schools,  chiefly  concerned  about  peace  and  its 
daily  bread,  prepared  to  go  with  either  party  that 
should  prove  the  stronger.  So  much  for  the 
sentiments  of  the  population. 

Both  sides  have  also  appealed  to  other  argu¬ 
ments  to  prove  that  all  Slavic  Macedonia  ought  to 
belong  to  them.  Endless  controversy  has  raged 
over  the  question  whether  its  people  speak  Bul¬ 
garian  or  Serbian.  It  has  been  triumphantly 
demonstrated,  on  the  one  hand,  that  the  Mace¬ 
donians  are  Bulgars  because  they  use  a  definite 
article  and  do  not  inflect  their  nouns;  but  it  has 
also  been  conclusively  shown  that  they  are  Serbs 
by  all  the  laws  of  morphology  and  phonetics.  In 
fact,  the  best  philological  judgment  seems  to  be 
that  these  people  speak  a  series  of  dialects  inter¬ 
mediate  between  Bulgarian  and  Serbian,  gradu¬ 
ally  shading  off  from  one  into  the  other;  and  that 
they  can  without  much  difficulty  understand  either 
language. 

Equally  inconclusive  are  the  arguments  based 
on  popular  customs.  Although  it  has  been  at¬ 
tempted,  one  will  never  solve  the  Macedonian 
question  by  proving  that  marriage,  burial,  and 
saint’s  day  customs  in  this  region  are  strikingly 
Serbian,  or  that  the  female  costumes  and  the 
embroidery  worn  by  the  ladies  are  unmistakably 
Bulgarian.  In  customs  as  in  language,  this  is 
simply  a  transitional  area  with  affinities  with  both 
its  neighbors. 


274  THE  peace  conference 

It  is  therefore  a  rather  tragic  thing  that  for  a 
generation  or  two  the  public  in  Bulgaria  has  been 
trained  to  think  that  Macedonia  is  a  fundamentally 
Bulgarian  country  pining  for  liberation.  The  feel¬ 
ing  on  that  subject  has  been  all  the  more  intense 
because  this  was  almost  the  only  region  that  could 
be  considered  as  unredeemed  Bulgaria.  Bulgarian 
patriotism  could  concentrate  and  specialize  on 
Macedonia.  Serbian  feeling  about  the  country 
was  formerly  not  quite  so  strong,  perhaps,  since 
Serbia  had  so  many  other  unredeemed  kinsmen  to 
ponder  over  —  in  Bosnia  first  and  foremost.  At 
any  rate,  since  the  events  of  the  last  seven  years, 
after  they  have  fought  three  wars  for  the  posses¬ 
sion  of  Macedonia,  the  Serbs  now  entertain  feelings 
about  that  country  that  are  not  a  bit  less  ardent 
and  intransigent  than  those  of  the  Bulgarians. 

Those  three  wars  —  or  the  last  two  at  least  — 
can  hardly  be  left  out  of  the  account.  If  before 
1913  the  Macedonian  problem  might  be  con¬ 
sidered  an  open  question,  with  the  balance  of 
rights  inclining  somewhat  in  favor  of  the  Bul¬ 
garians,  it  would  seem  that  today  Serbia  has 
acquired,  by  blood  and  suffering,  titles  that  can 
scarcely  be  denied.  After  Bulgaria’s  two  perfidi¬ 
ous  attacks  —  the  first  one  in  1913  so  indefensible 
that  prominent  Bulgarians  have  since  called  it 
“an  act  of  insane  folly,”  “a  fratricidal  crime,” 
and  the  second  one  in  1915  hardly  less  dastardly, 
for  it  was  a  blow  in  the  back  when  Serbia  was 
fighting  for  her  life  against  the  Austro-German 


THE  BALKANS 


275 


onslaught  — ;  after  Bulgaria  has  conducted  her 
wars  with  a  savagery  worthy  of  her  allies  and 
joined  in  what  seems  little  less  than  a  deliberate 
effort  to  exterminate  the  Serbian  nation;  after 
Bulgaria,  in  her  moments  of  apparent  triumph, 
has  loudly  announced  the  intention  to  appropriate 
not  only  Macedonia  but  half  of  the  older  Serbia  as 
well;  and  after  Serbia’s  so  desperate  and  gallant 
struggle  and  final  brilliant  victory  —  it  may  be 
all  very  well  for  the  beaten  Bulgar  to  present  him¬ 
self,  with  Wilsonian  phrases  to  replace  his  old 
Prussian  ones,  and  say,  “Let’s  have  peace  and  make 
up,  and  you  give  me  all  we’ve  been  fighting  for”; 
but  it  would  be  more  than  human  nature  could 
expect,  or  than  strict  justice,  I  think,  can  demand, 
that  Serbia  or  her  Allies  should  grant  his  request. 

It  is  another  question,  of  course,  whether  this 
outcome  will  make  for  permanent  peace  in  the 
Balkans.  Much  will  depend  on  the  degree  of 
generosity  and  tact  that  the  Serbs  may  show  in 
dealing  with  those  Macedonians  who  have  come 
to  feel  themselves  Bulgars,  and  with  the  probably 
larger  mass  who  as  yet  have  no  definite  national 
consciousness  of  any  kind.  There  is  reasonable 
ground  for  hope,  I  think,  that,  if  peace  continues 
for  a  generation  or  so,  the  majority  of  the  Mace¬ 
donians  can  be  won  over  by  quite  legitimate  means 
to  Serbian  nationality. 

Rather  different,  perhaps,  is  the  case  of  another 
territory  lost  by  Bulgaria  at  the  treaty  of  Bucha¬ 
rest,  and  which  she  has  again  failed  to  recover  — 


276  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

the  Southern  Dobrudja.  Apart  from  the  one  city 
of  Silistria  (with  14,000  people),  this  small  terri¬ 
tory  would  seem  to  be  of  little  value  to  anybody. 
It  contains,  however,  over  100,000  Bulgarians  as 
against  only  6000  Roumanians;  moreover,  it  is 
of  strategic  importance.  Roumania’s  motive  for 
demanding  it  in  1913  was  to  protect  the  railway 
leading  to  her  chief  port,  Constanza,  a  line  which 
was  at  one  point  only  about  twenty  miles  from  the 
old  Bulgarian  frontier.  But  through  the  cession 
then  made,  the  danger  was  merely  shifted  to  the 
other  side.  It  is  now  Bulgaria’s  chief  Black  Sea 
port,  Varna,  and  the  railway  serving  it  that  are 
menaced,  for  the  Roumanian  frontier  comes  within 
about  ten  miles  of  them.  Hence  the  American 
delegation  at  Paris  endeavored  to  have  the  frontier 
of  1913  corrected  so  that  neither  side  would  be  in 
danger.  But  Roumania  displayed  a  certain  ob¬ 
stinacy,  and  the  Conference,  not  wishing  to  com¬ 
plicate  much  more  serious  questions  then  pending 
between  it  and  Roumania,  shelved  the  Dobrudja 
matter,  intimating,  however,  that  it  might  be 
taken  up  later  in  connection  with  the  problem  of 
Bessarabia. 

Not  only  has  Bulgaria  failed  to  regain  her  losses 
of  1913,  but  the  new  Peace  Treaty  deprives  her 
of  some  bits  of  territory  that  have  hitherto  be¬ 
longed  to  her.  Serbia  has  secured  some  small 
rectifications  of  the  frontier  established  in  1913? 
all  of  them  for  strategic  reasons.  One  of  them, 
in  the  valley  of  the  River  Strumica,  was  very 


THE  BALKANS 


277 


genuinely  needed,  for  at  that  point  the  old  frontier 
came  within  about  six  miles  of  the  Belgrade- 
Salonica  railway,  and  what  this  means  is  shown  by 
the  fact  that  in  the  first  year  of  the  Great  War, 
before  Bulgaria  officially  entered  the  contest,  this 
all-important  railroad  was  almost  cut  by  a  raid  of 
Bulgarian  komitadjis.  The  other  chief  rectifica¬ 
tion,  in  the  Pirot-Tsaribrod  basin,  seems  more 
questionable,  and  has  the  disadvantage  of  bringing 
the  frontier  even  nearer  to  Sofia  than  has  been  the 
case  since  1878. 

A  more  considerable  loss  to  Bulgaria,  though  not 
necessarily  a  definitive  one,  is  that  of  the  territory 
in  Western  Thrace  which  she  acquired  in  1913. 
To  this  question  I  shall  come  back  in  a  moment  in 
connection  with  the  whole  problem  of  Thrace. 
As  a  preliminary  to  that,  however,  it  seems  neces¬ 
sary  to  say  a  word  as  to  the  general  situation  an J 
claims  of  Greece. 


While  the  Balkan  settlement  now  being  effected 
at  Paris  is  in  the  main  a  confirmation  of  that  of 
1913,  some  new  departures  have  been  made  or  are 
in  prospect;  and  these  relate  almost  wholly  to  the 
problem  of  Greek  irredentism.  For  if  Roumanian 
or  Serbian  national  unity  could  be  attained  chiefly 
by  the  acquisition  of  former  Austrian  and  Hun¬ 
garian  territories,  the  question  of  Greek  national 
unity  involves  primarily  further  changes  of  terri¬ 
tory  in  the  Balkans. 

It  has  been  estimated  by  Mr.  Venizelos  that  the 


278  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

Hellenic  nation  today  comprises  over  eight  million 
people,  of  whom  only  55%  live  in  the  kingdom  of 
Greece.  Of  the  rest  about  one  million  are  widely 
dispersed  all  over  the  world;  nearly  two  millions 
reside  in  Asia  Minor  and  Cyprus  —  lands  outside 
the*  scope  of  this  survey;  there  are  100,000  in 
the  Dodecanesus,  those  Aegean  islands  which  Italy 
certainly  should,  and  probably  will,  transfer  to 
Greece.  There  remain,  as  unredeemed  Greek 
populations  in  the  Balkans,  about  731,000  people 
in  Thrace  and  at  Constantinople,  and  about 
151,000  in  Northern  Epirus  and  Southern  Albania. 
All  told,  Greece  hopes  to  liberate  about  two  mil¬ 
lions  of  her  kinsmen  as  a  result  of  the  War,  and  to 
bring  it  about  that  at  least  75%  of  the  race,  that 
portion  which  is  gathered  in  the  lands  about  the 
Aegean,  should  live  united  in  the  Hellenic  kingdom. 

On  the  northwest  Greece  lays  claims  to  that 
territory  which  she  calls  Northern  Epirus  and 
which  her  opponents  call  Southern  Albania:  a 
territory  which  she  fought  for  in  1912-13,  but  which 
the  Powers  at  that  time,  under  Austro-Italian 
influence,  awarded  to  Albania.  This  district  con¬ 
tains  two  important  towns,  Koritza  and  Argyro- 
castro,  and  a  total  population  of  about  120,000 
Orthodox  Christians  and  80-100,000  Mohamme¬ 
dans.  It  seems  to  be  fairly  well  agreed  that  the 
Mohammedans  are  and  feel  themselves  to  be 
Albanians,  and  that  most  of  the  Christians  also 
speak  Albanian  in  their  homes  as  their  mother 
tongue.  The  Greeks  claim  however,  that  these 


THE  BALKANS 


279 

Christian  Epirotes  read  and  write  only  Greek  and 
are  really  bilingual;  that  by  their  religion,  culture, 
historic  traditions,  and  their  ardent  Hellenic 
patriotism  today,  they  are  essentially  Greeks,  and 
belong  to  Greece  by  the  same  right  as  Alsace  and 
Lorraine  to  France.  All  of  this  the  Albanian 
spokesmen,  of  course,  strenuously  deny.  They 
maintain  that  this  is  a  thoroughly  and  devotedly 
Albanian  population,  whose  separation  from  the 
rest  of  the  Shkypetars  would  be  among  the  most 
glaring  of  the  many  mutilations  that  this  much- 
tried  nation  has  had  to  endure. 

Nothing  is  more  difficult  than  to  ascertain  the 
sentiments  of  a  population  among  whom  such  a 
thing  as  a  genuinely  free  election  has  never  been 
known,  propaganda  and  terrorism  are  the  most 
common  things  in  the  world,  and  the  rifle  has 
hitherto  been  the  principal  means  of  settling 
questions.  Albanian  nationalism  is  so  new  and 
Albanian  education  so  much  a  novelty  of  yesterday 
that  perhaps  the  Albanians  have  never  had  a  fair 
chance.  At  any  rate,  the  balance  of  evidence  so 
far  seems  to  favor  the  Greeks.  Almost  all  the 
schools  in  the  contested  area  are  Greek;  the  pre¬ 
dominance  of  the  pro-Greek  element  in  the 
intellectual  and  economic  life  of  the  country 
can  scarcely  be  disputed;  the  manifestations  of 
Greek  sentiment,  especially  at  Koritza,  have 
been  impressive;  and  most  impressive  of  all, 
perhaps,  was  the  uprising  of  the  Northern  Epirotes 
in  1913,  when  Europe  tried  to  place  them  under 


280  the  peace  conference 


Albanian  rule  and  then  found  itself  unable  to 
make  them  submit  to  it.  At  all  events,  the  Paris 
Conference  did  not  arrive  at  an  agreement  about 
this  question.  While  the  British  and  French 
advocated  transferring  all  of  Northern  Epirus  to 
Greece,  the  Italians  stood  out  for  leaving  it  to 
Albania,  and  the  Americans  advocated  a  com¬ 
promise  solution,  which  would  have  ceded  the 
southern,  Argyrocastro  district  to  Greece,  while 
leaving  to  Albania  the  northern  district  of  Koritza, 
which  some  people  have  called  the  intellectual 
centre  of  Albanian  nationalism. 

Albania  is  menaced  with  some  other  losses. 
There  has  been  talk  of  forming  her  northern  terri¬ 
tories  into  a  separate  autonomous  province  under 
the  protection  of  Yugo-Slavia.  Something  might 
be  said  for  this  project  from  the  economic  stand¬ 
point,  since,  through  the  control  of  the  Drin  val¬ 
ley  and  the  ports  at  its  mouth,  Serbia  would 
obtain  the  only  relatively  easy  outlet  to  the  sea 
south  of  Fiume.  The  Drin  valley  has  usually  been 
taken  as  the  western  starting-point  in  plans  for  an 
Adriatic-Transbalkan  railway.  But  from  every 
other  standpoint,  the  project  in  question  seems 
objectionable  in  the  extreme.  Whatever  may  be 
the  case  in  Epirus,  no  one  can  claim  that  the 
North  Albanians  are  devotees  of  Serbian  culture 
or  have  any  feelings  towards  the  Serbs  save  ancient 
and  bitter  hostility.  One  could  hardly  think  of  a 
more  successful  device  for  creating  a  permanent 
storm  centre  in  the  Balkans. 


THE  BALKANS 


281 


A  more  certain  territorial  loss  to  Albania  is  that 
of  the  port  of  Avlona,  which  Italy  occupied  in  1914, 
and  which  she  assuredly  will  be  allowed  to  keep. 
After  all,  her  possession  of  it  is  no  more  unnatural 
than  England’s  position  at  Gibraltar  or  our  own 
at  Panama.  Furthermore,  it  is  probable  that 
Italy  will  receive  some  kind  of  mandate  from  the 
Allies  or  from  the  League  of  Nations  to  supervise 
Albania.  It  is  pretty  generally  admitted,  even 
by  the  Albanians  themselves,  that  this  nascent 
and  terribly  backward  state  needs  a  protector; 
and  since  our  government  has  been  unable  to 
assume  that  role,  as  the  Albanians  would  have 
preferred  to  see  us  do,  both  we  and  they  can 
scarcely  object  to  Italy’s  undertaking  it. 

To  return  to  the  subject  of  Greek  claims  —  the 
main  object  of  Mr.  Venizelos’  diplomacy  at  Paris 
was  the  question  of  Thrace.  This  was  a  double- 
barrelled  problem,  for  it  referred  both  to  the  terri¬ 
tory  which  fell  to  Bulgaria  in  1913,  which  we  call 
Western  Thrace,  and  to  Eastern  Thrace,  which 
means  all  that  is  left  of  Turkey  in  Europe  except 
Constantinople. 

Here  again  we  are  in  a  region  of  statistical 
chaos  and  ethnographic  nightmares.  The  racial 
problems  of  Thrace  are  as  bad  as  those  of  Mace¬ 
donia  —  worse  in  fact,  since  they  are  so  new  and 
unfamiliar.  We  know  in  a  general  way  that 
throughout  both  the  Thraces  Turks,  Greeks,  and 
to  a  less  extent  Bulgarians  are  scattered  about  with 
a  promiscuity  that  almost  defies  analysis  or  con- 


282  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


elusions.  The  racial  statistics  available  —  the 
Turkish  census  of  1910,  the  Greek  Patriarch’s 
statistical  estimates  of  1912,  and  the  Bulgarian 
census  in  Western  Thrace  for  1914  —  make  it  a 
point  never  to  agree  on  a  single  item.  Religious 
factors  add  to  the  confusion.  In  Western  Thrace 
there  is  a  large  population  called  the  Pomaks: 
people  who  are  probably  Bulgarian  in  race  and 
speech,  but  who  are  Moslems  in  religion  and  in 
their  Weltanschauung.  Ought  they  to  be  counted 
as  sterling  Bulgarian  patriots,  as  people  at  Sofia 
maintain;  or  rather  as  Turks,  as  Constantinople 
and  Athens  consider  them?  Finally,  after  all  the 
wars,  migrations,  and  massacres  of  the  last  eight 
years,  one  may  well  doubt  whether  any  of  the  three 
censuses  mentioned  could  claim  to  represent  the 
existing  situation,  even  assuming  that  they  were 
honestly  made  in  the  first  place. 

At  all  events,  one  point  in  this  chaos  is  tolerably 
clear.  In  Eastern  Thrace  the  Greeks  have  the 
best  claim  on  the  basis  of  nationality,  if  one  takes 
as  the  criterion  the  situation  before  the  Balkan 
Wars.  Speaking  very  roughly,  they  may  then 
have  numbered  about  400,000,  as  against  some 
250,000  Turks  and  only  about  50,000  Bulgarians. 
Not  only  did  the  Greeks  hold  virtually  the  entire 
coast,  even  on  the  side  of  the  Black  Sea;  but  in  the 
interior  they  formed  the  matrix  of  this  strange 
agglomeration,  in  which  the  Turkish  and  Bulgarian 
enclaves  were  embedded. 

In  Western  Thrace  the  question  is  more  difficult. 


THE  BALKANS 


283 

The  answer  to  it  depends  on  whose  statistics  one 
thinks  least  unreliable,  and  largely  on  whether  one 
counts  the  Pomaks  as  Bulgars  or  Turks.  The 
Pomaks  are  rather  less  known  to  us  than  the  tribes 
of  Central  Africa;  but  if  one  may  judge  of  their 
sentiments  today  by  what  little  is  known  of  their 
behavior  in  the  past,  one  would  hesitate  to  put 
them  down  as  Bulgarians.  At  any  rate,  one  is 
faced  here  by  Mr.  Venizelos’  estimates:  a  total 
population  of  about  400,000,  made  up  of  285,000 
Turks,  70,000  Greeks,  and  59,000  Bulgarians;  and, 
on  the  other  side,  the  Bulgarian  census  purporting 
to  show  210,000  Turks,  185,000  Bulgarians  (includ¬ 
ing  70,000  Pomaks)  and  only  32,000  Greeks.  In 
fact  the  latest  Bulgarian  estimates  do  not  admit  the 
existence  of  any  Greeks  at  all  here:  which  leaves 
one  free  to  make  any  one  of  several  unpleasant 
conjectures  as  to  what  the  Bulgars  have  done  with 
them.  A  slight  Greek  majority  over  the  Bulgar¬ 
ians  is  claimed  by  the  one  side,  then;  and  a  large 
Bulgarian  preponderance  is  claimed  by  the  other. 

The  question  also  has  an  economic  and  a  political 
aspect.  If  Bulgaria  is  deprived  of  Western  Thrace, 
she  will  be  shut  off  from  the  Aegean  Sea,  which 
certainly  forms  her  shortest  and  most  natural 
outlet  to  the  Western  world.  It  is  true,  as  the 
Greeks  point  out,  that  Bulgaria  has  several  ports 
on  the  Black  Sea,  and  as  the  Straits  are  surely 
going  to  be  placed  under  international  control  and 
freely  opened  to  all  nations,  Bulgaria  will  not  be 
cut  off  from  external  communications.  Moreover, 


284  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

Greece  is  willing  to  offer  her  special  commercial 
rights,  to  be  defined  by  the  Powers,  in  certain 
Greek  ports  on  the  Aegean.  But  this  quite  natur¬ 
ally  does  not  satisfy  the  Bulgars.  They  maintain 
that  if  they  were  to  be  deprived  of  their  one  direct 
and  secure  access  to  the  open  sea,  this  would  be  a 
disaster  and  an  affront  from  which  their  people 
would  never  recover. 

This  raises,  of  course,  the  political  question. 
From  the  standpoint  of  nationality,  it  would  seem 
only  just  to  award  Eastern  Thrace  to  Greece,  and 
perhaps  at  least  the  southern  half  of  Western 
Thrace  as  well.  The  Greeks  ardently  desire  this, 
both  for  the  sake  of  liberating  their  kinsmen,  and 
also,  doubtless,  in  order  to  build  a  bridge  towards 
Constantinople,  the  glittering  prize  of  the  future, 
which  is  always  dangling  before  Greek  eyes.  But 
beyond  this  narrow  isthmus  of  Hellenism  along  the 
north  Aegean  coast,  there  would  always  be  the 
lowering  Bulgarian  giant,  thirsting  to  recover  what 
he  considers  to  be  the  key  to  his  house.  Whatever 
be  the  rights  and  wrongs  in  the  case,  a  very  severe 
strain  is  being  put  upon  Bulgaria’s  self-control  by 
the  present  settlement  of  the  Macedonian  question. 
If,  in  addition,  Bulgaria  were  to  be  permanently 
stripped  of  the  territory  she  already  possesses  on 
the  Aegean,  the  resulting  dangers  to  the  peace 
of  the  Balkans  would  be  obvious. 

For  some  such  reasons,  and  since  the  ethnographic 
situation  in  Western  Thrace  was  so  uncertain,  the 
American  representatives  at  Paris,  as  is  well 


THE  BALKANS 


285 

known,  stood  out  against  the  attribution  of  this 
territory  to  Greece.  Finally,  a  compromise  was 
arranged  by  which,  in  the  treaty  of  Neuilly,  Bul¬ 
garia  was  made  simply  to  cede  the  disputed  terri¬ 
tory  to  the  Principal  Allied  and  Associated  Powers. 
What  they  will  do  with  it  remains,  apparently,  still 
unsettled.  It  may  pass  to  Greece;  it  may  ulti¬ 
mately  be  restored  to  Bulgaria;  conceivably  it 
may  be  joined  to  Eastern  Thrace  to  form  an  inter¬ 
nationally  controlled  autonomous  state.  In  any 
case,  this  is  likely  to  remain  one  of  the  danger- 
zones  of  Eastern  Europe. 

The  fate  of  Eastern  Thrace  is  still  awaiting  the 
conclusion  of  peace  with  Turkey  and  the  settle¬ 
ment  of  the  far  greater  problem  —  Constantinople. 
That  most  tantalizing  of  questions  has  gone 
through  some  astonishing  phases  since  1913.  Seven 
years  ago  the  Bulgar  was  thundering  at  the  lines 
of  Chatalja,  and  Tsar  Ferdinand  was  said  to  be 
ordering  the  diadem  with  which  he  was  to  be 
crowned  in  St.  Sophia.  Five  years  ago  the  Russian 
solution  was  at  last  accepted  by  England  and 
France,  though  those  states  for  a  century  had 
seemed  to  believe  that  the  establishment  of  the 
Muscovites  on  the  Bosporus  would  mean  the  end 
of  everything.  Then  after  the  collapse  of  Russia 
and  of  Turkey  people  talked  only  of  sending  the 
Turk  “bag  and  baggage”  back  to  Asia  and  of 
establishing  a  small  international  state  on  the 
straits,  with  the  United  States  as  mandatory.  This 
project  seems  now  to  be  beyond  the  range  of  possi- 


286  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


bilities.  The  next  best  plan  would  seem  to  be  to 
install  the  Greeks,  who  from  the  standpoint  of 
history  and  of  population  statistics  have  at  least 
as  good  a  right  to  be  there  as  the  Turks,  and  from 
the  standpoint  of  their  general  utility  in  the  world 
an  infinitely  better  right.  But  the  news  dispatches 
of  the  last  month  foreshadow  that  the  drama  will 
end  with  an  anti-climax.  Since  England  and 
France  are  each  unwilling  to  allow  the  other  to 
control  this  coveted  position,  since  both  are  rather 
sceptical  of  Greece’s  present  fitness  for  so  respon¬ 
sible  a  role,  and  England  moreover  is  disquieted 
by  certain  possible  repercussions  in  India  and  else¬ 
where,  it  now  seems  to  be  agreed  that  the  Sultan 
is  to  remain  in  Constantinople.  Once  more,  the 
Turk  is  to  make  good  his  claim  to  having  nine  lives, 
and  from  the  old  cause  —  the  rivalries  of  the  Chris¬ 
tians.  There  will  doubtless  be  elaborate  arrange¬ 
ments  about  neutralizing  and  internationalizing 
the  straits,  and  the  Sultan  will  issue  whole  batches 
of  paper  reforms;  but  I  fear  that  many  people  will 
be  inclined  to  echo  the  words  of  the  late  President 
Roosevelt,  that  (after  the  close  of  the  War),  “it 
would  be  a  betrayal  of  civilization  to  leave  the 
Turks  in  Europe.’’ 

I  do  not  wish,  however,  to  end  upon  a  note  of 
pessimism.  Whatever  mistakes  may  have  been 
made  in  connection  with  the  territorial  problems 
of  Eastern  Europe  —  and  some  mistakes  were 
inevitable,  in  view  of  the  tremendous  multiplicity 


THE  BALKANS 


287 


and  complexity  of  the  problems  raised  —  the  gen¬ 
eral  outcome  represents  an  immense  gain  for  the 
cause  of  liberty  and  nationality.  The  dream 
which  haunted  Mazzini  and  so  many  other  liberals 
of  fifty  years  ago  —  the  transformation  of  the  four 
great  despotisms  of  Eastern  Europe  —  Austria, 
Prussia,  Russia,  and  Turkey  —  into  a  world  of 
free,  self-determining  national  states  —  has  now 
been  in  large  part  realized.  The  unification  of 
Italy,  delayed  for  half  a  century,  is  now  virtually 
finished;  and  from  the  Baltic  to  the  Aegean  there 
has  been  built  up  a  tier  of  national  states,  which 
may  perhaps  set  a  check  upon  any  recrudescence 
of  Pan-Germanism,  and  which  some  people  have 
called  ‘the  new  bulwark  of  liberty  in  the  East.’ 
Of  course,  fears  are  expressed  as  to  ‘the  Balkaniza¬ 
tion  of  Eastern  Europe.’  But  if  that  charge 
implies  a  disintegration  of  the  older  units  into  a 
large  number  of  small  and  permanently  feeble 
states,  the  complaint  is  scarcely  well  founded. 
After  all,  in  the  area  considered  in  these  lectures, 
only  two  really  new  states  have  been  created. 
In  the  main,  the  effort  has  been  to  round  out  older 
ones  so  as  to  make  their  political  frontiers  coincide 
with  their  ethnographic  ones,  to  unite  rather 
than  to  divide.  As  a  result  we  have  Poland,  with 
about  thirty  million  people;  Czecho-Slovakia  with 
twelve  to  thirteen  millions;  Roumania  with  fifteen 
millions;  Yugo-Slavia  with  twelve  to  thirteen  mil¬ 
lions;  Greece,  which  may  attain  six  to  seven  mil¬ 
lions;  —  results  which  scarcely  fit  in  with  the 
charge  of  Balkanization. 


288  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 

Whatever  mistakes  there  may  have  been,  what¬ 
ever  selfish  interests  have  occasionally  come  un¬ 
pleasantly  to  light,  I  think  it  may  be  justly  affirmed 
that  on  no  similar  occasion  in  the  past  has  so  earn¬ 
est  and  systematic  an  effort  been  made  to  settle 
territorial  questions  on  the  basis,  not  of  the  inter¬ 
ests  or  the  convenience  of  the  Great  Powers,  but 
of  the  rights  and  aspirations  of  the  peoples  directly 
concerned;  that  the  Peace  Conference  at  Paris 
has  liberated  and  unified  more  nations  than  any 
previous  European  congress,  or  all  the  congresses 
of  the  last  century  taken  together;  and  that  the 
principle  of  nationality  has  never  before  won  so 
sweeping  and  signal  a  victory. 


Bibliographical  Note 

In  view  of  the  fact  that  most  of  the  numerous  ethnographic 
maps  of  the  Balkan  Peninsula  are  works  of  propaganda  or  else  are 
copied  from  earlier  works  so  that  they  often  have  no  independent 
value,  it  is  a  not  inessential  precaution  to  consult  the  article  by 
Haardt  von  Hartenturm,  “Die  Kartographie  der  Balkanhalbinsel 
im  19.  Jht.,”  in  the  Mitteilungen  des  k.  k.  Mi  litiir-geograp  his  chert  In- 
stituts,  xxi,  Vienna,  1901.  The  later  maps  are  enumerated  by  Jovan 
Cvijic  in  his  article,  “Die  ethnographische  Abgrenzung  der  Volker 
auf  der  Balkanhalbinsel,”  in  Petermanns  Mitteilungen,  1913  (i). 

This  latter  article  is  accompanied  by  the  author’s  own  ethno¬ 
graphic  map  of  the  Peninsula,  which  represents  the  conclusions  of 
the  most  eminent  and  one  of  the  most  moderate  of  Serbian  scholars. 
Professor  Cvijic  has  published  another  map  of  the  same  character 
in  the  Geographical  Review,  May,  1918. 

A  large  Bulgarian  work  obviously  designed  for  propagandist 
purposes  is  the  atlas  of  forty  maps,  accompanied  by  explanatory 
text,  entitled  The  Bulgarians  in  their  Historical,  Ethnographical, 
and  Political  Frontiers,  published  at  Berlin  in  1917,  in  German, 
French,  English,  and  Russian,  by  a  group  of  scholars  headed  by  D. 
Rizoff.  (Cf.  the  critical  observations  on  this  work  by  Professor 


THE  BALKANS  289 

Belie,  Les  Cartes  ethnographiques  au  service  de  la  propagande  bulgare. 
Paris,  1918.) 

A  similar  historic  and  ethnographic  atlas  for  Roumania  has 
been  referred  to  in  the  bibliography  for  Chapter  VII. 

The  geography  of  the  Peninsula  is  described  by  Jovan  Cvijic, 
La  Peninsule  balkanique,  geographie  humaine,  Paris,  1918;  and 
Marion  Newbigin,  Geographical  Aspects  of  Balkan  Problems  in  their 
Relation  to  the  Great  European  War,  2d  impression,  London,  1915. 

From  the  mass  of  excellent  historical  works  dealing  with  the 
Balkans,  one  would  commend  especially:  N.  Forbes,  A.  J.  Toynbee, 
D.  Mitrany,  and  D.  G.  Hogarth:  The  Balkans,  a  History  of  Bulgaria, 
Serbia,  Greece,  Rumania,  Turkey,  Oxford,  1915;  J.  A.  R.  Marriott, 
The  Eastern  Question,  an  Historical  Study  in  European  Diplomacy, 
Oxford,  1917;  R.  W.  Seton-Watson,  The  Rise  of  Nationality  in  the 
Balkans,  London,  1917;  and  (Baron)  L.  H.  C.  Courtney  (editor), 
Nationalism  and  War  in  the  Near  East,  by  a  Diplomatist.  Oxford, 
1916. 

The  aspirations,  claims,  and  policy  of  Bulgaria  have  received 
their  most  moderate  and  candid  presentation  from  “Historicus,” 
Bulgaria  and  her  Neighbors,  New  York,  1 9 1 7  >  and  G.  C.  Logio, 
Bulgaria:  Problems  and  Politics,  New  Y  ork,  1919. 

There  is  a  fairly  detailed  map  showing  the  new  frontiers  of  Bul¬ 
garia  as  fixed  by  the  treaty  of  Neuilly  in  the  Geographical  Journal, 
February,  1920. 

On  the  situation  and  claims  of  Greece,  see  Charles  Vellay, 
L'Irredentisme  hellenique,  Paris,  1913;  and  “Polybius,”  Greece 
before  the  Conference,  London,  1919. 

The  literature  of  the  Macedonian  question  is  enormous.  Among 
pre-War  works  on  the  subject  by  impartial  outsiders,  one  would 
name  especially:  Victor  Berard,  La  Turquie  et  I'hellenisme  con- 
temporain,  Paris,  1896,  and  La  Macedoine,  Paris,  1897;  H.  N. 
Brailsford,  Macedonia,  its  Races  and  their  Future,  London,  1906; 
and  G.  Amadori-Virgilj,  La  Questione  rumeliota,  vol.  i,  Bitonto, 
1908  (also  very  useful  on  Albania  and  Epirus).  The  Bulgarian 
claims  to  Macedonia  are  set  forth  notably  by  “A.  Ofeikov”  (pseu¬ 
donym  for  Sopov),  La  Macedoine  au  point  de  vue  ethnographique , 
historique  et  philologique,  Philippopolis,  1887;  S.  Radeff,  La  Mace¬ 
doine  et  la  renaissance  bulgare  au  XIX e  siecle,  Sofia,  1918;  and  V. 
Sis,  Mazedonien,  eine  Studie  iiber  Geographie,  Geschichte,  V olkskunde 
.. ., Zurich,  1918.  The  Serbian  point  of  view  is  presented  by  T.  R. 
Georgevitch,  Macedonia,  London,  1918;  Jovan  Cvijic,  Questions 
balkaniques,  Paris,  1916;  and  A.  Belie,  La  Macedoine,  etudes  ethno¬ 
graphiques  et  politiques,  Paris,  1919.  For  the  Greek  side  of  the  case, 


290 


THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE 


see  M.  Paillares,  L' Imbroglio  macedonien,  Paris,  1907;  and  S.  P. 
Phocas-Cosmetatos,  La  Macedoine,  son  passe  et  son  present,  Paris, 

l9l9-  .  . 

Regarding  the  Dobrudja  question,  the  Roumanian  claims  are 

set  forth  by  N.  P.  Comnene,  La  Dobrogea:  essai  historique,  eco- 
nomique,  ethnographique,  et  politique,  Paris,  1918;  and  the  Bul¬ 
garian  standpoint  is  upheld  by  A.  Ishirkov,  Les  Bulgares  en  Dobrudja; 
aperQU  historique  et  ethnographique ,  Berne,  1919. 

On  the  question  of  Northern  Epirus  (or  Southern  Albania)  one 
may  consult,  for  the  Greek  side,  N.  J.  Cassavetes,  The  Question 
of  Northern  Epirus  at  the  Peace  Conference,  Boston,  1919;  and  R. 
Puaux,  The  Sorrows  of  Epirus,  London,  1918.  The  Albanian 
point  of  view  in  this  and  other  questions  is  set  forth  by  C.  A.  Chek- 
rezi,  Albania  Past  and  Present,  New  York,  1919;  C.  A.  Dako, 
Albania,  the  Master  Key  to  the  Near  East,  Boston,  1919;  and  in  the 
Memorandum  submitted  by  the  Albanian  Delegation  to  the  Peace 
Conference  (published  by  the  Association  for  International  Concilia¬ 
tion,  American  Branch,  New  York,  1919:  no.  138  of  their  series). 

Very  little  has  yet  been  published  on  the  question  of  Thrace. 
The  most  useful  compendium  of  maps,  statistics,  and  historical  and 
ethnographic  data  about  it  is  The  Question  of  Thrace:  Greeks, 
Bulgars,  and  Turks,  by  J.  Saxon  Mills  and  M.  G.  Chrussachi, 
London,  1919  (primarily  based  on  Bulgarian  data,  used  to  refute 
Bulgarian  claims). 

On  the  problem  of  the  Straits,  the  best  treatment  —  both 
historical  and  analytical  —  is  probably  to  be  found  in  the  recent 
volume  by  Coleman  Philippson  and  Noel  Buxton,  The  Question  of 
the  Bosphorus  and  the  Dardanelles,  London,  1917-  A  brief  but 
excellent  essay  is  A.  C.  Coolidge’s  Claimants  to  Constantinople, 
Cambridge,  Mass.,  1917. 

The  London  Times  of  May  12,  1920,  contains  a  rather  full  ac¬ 
count  of  the  terms  of  the  treaty  of  peace  with  Turkey,  which 
have  just  been  officially  presented  to  the  Ottoman  government. 
These  proposed  terms  have  been  given  out  too  late  to  be  con¬ 
sidered  in  the  text  of  the  present  volume. 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Aabenraa,  42. 

Adrianople,  266. 

Adriatic  question,  the,  225,  244- 
262. 

Adriatic  Sea,  the,  206,  225,  268. 
Adriatic  territories,  213,  244- 
262,  28of. 

Adriatic-Transbalkan  railway, 
proposed,  280. 

Aegean  Sea,  the,  266,  268,  278, 
283,  284,  287. 

Africa,  9. 

Agram,  248,  257. 

Albania,  265,  278-281,  290. 
Albanians,  268,  278-281. 

Albert  of  Hohenzollern,  first 
duke  of  Prussia  (1525-68), 
162. 

Alexander  Karageorgevich, 
prince  regent  of  Serbia,  269b 
Alexandria,  182. 

Alfold,  plain  of  the,  231,  232. 
Alpine  racial  type,  the,  16,  86, 
87,  1 19. 

Alps,  the,  20,  21 1,  222,  225, 
244,  268. 

Alsace,  12,  16,  76,  77,  78f.,  87, 

9L93,  94,  95>96,  97,  IOI>  IJ7, 
1 19,  120,  123,  133.  See  Al¬ 
sace-Lorraine. 

Alsace-Lorraine,  17,  29,  75-116, 

l32,  *34,  1 36,  l39,  I5°>  i87, 

267,  279. 

American  Geographical  Society, 
the,  23. 

Amsterdam,  63. 


Anarchy,  5 f.,  204. 

Antwerp,  54,  62,  63,  65. 

Arc  de  Triomphe,  the,  4. 

Argyrocastro,  278,  280. 

Armenia,  226. 

Armenians,  166. 

Arndt,  E.  M.,  1 1 8. 

Arva,  188,  213. 

Asia,  9,  210,  285. 

Asia  Minor,  15,  17,  278. 

Athens,  282. 

Augustus  Caesar,  201. 

Aulard,  F.  A.,  138. 

‘Ausonian  Republic,’  247. 

Austria,  3,  n,  33,  38,  39,  67,  91, 
93,  94,  159,  171,201-229,  244, 
246,  250,  256,  270,  277,  287. 

Austria-Hungary,  6,  14,  17, 1 88— 
191,  203-210,  248,  265. 

Austrian  Netherlands,  the,  52. 

Austrian  Silesia,  158,  212,  216, 
219. 

Autonomy,  106,  207,  238,  280, 
285. 

Avlona,  281. 

Baden,  12,  76,  121,  122,  123. 

Bagdad,  242. 

Baker,  R.  S.,  34. 

Balkans,  the,  15,  17,  20,  238, 
245,  263-290. 

Balkan  wars,  the,  of  1912-13, 
263b,  265^,  267,  282,  285. 

Ballad  literature,  of  the  Mace¬ 
donian  Slavs,  270. 

Baltic  provinces,  the,  17. 


293 


INDEX 


294 

Baltic  Sea,  the,  157,  159,  161, 
162,  164,  167,  178,  179,  180, 
1 8 1 ,  287. 

Banat  of  Temesv&r,  the,  240. 
Barker,  J.  E.,  quoted,  202. 
Baruch,  B.  M.,  24. 

Basel,  122. 

Basque  region,  the,  90. 
Bas-Rhin,  department  of  the, 
1 14. 

Bavaria,  79,  121,  124,  132,  144. 
Belfort,  104,  105. 

Belgian  Congo,  the,  71. 
Belgium,  n,  48~73>  9°>  93>  12  G 
122,  131. 

Belgrade,  240,  248,  277. 

Belleau  Wood,  5. 

Bellum  omnium  contra  omnes, 
205. 

Benson,  W.  S.,  25. 

Berlin,  140,  145,  191,  192,  207; 

congress  of  (1878),  9,  267. 
Bernhoft,  H.  A.,  42. 

Bessarabia,  276. 

Birkenfeld,  principality  of,  124. 
Bismarck,  Prince  Otto,  38f., 
101 ,  153,  154;  quoted,  100, 
212. 

Black  Sea,  the,  167,  238,  268, 
276,  282,  283. 

Blockade,  problems  of,  5. 
Booking,  family,  137. 

Booking,  H.,  136,  151. 

Bohemia,  i8f.,  93,  21 1,  212,  213- 
222,  223. 

Bolsheviki,  the,  169,  195k 
Bolshevism,  6,  237. 

Bosnia,  242,  260. 

Bosporus,  the,  263,  285. 

Botzen,  225. 

Bowman,  I.,  23,  34. 
Brandenburg,  79,  162. 

Bremen,  182. 


Brenner  Pass,  the,  225. 

Brest,  7. 

Brest-Litovsk,  treaty  of  (1918), 
191. 

Breusch,  the,  88. 

Bridges  and  bridgeheads,  Rhine, 
128,  129,  130. 

Briey,  13,  103,  104,  112. 
Brindisi,  255. 

British  Isles,  the,  u,  17. 
Brittany,  90. 

Britten,  147. 

Brixen,  225. 

Brockdorff-Rantzau,  Count  von, 
120. 

Bryce,  Viscount,  6. 

Bucharest,  peace  of  (1913),  264, 
266,  267,  275. 

Budapest,  237,  242,  246,  258. 
Bulow,  Prince  von,  187. 

Buffer  state,  proposed,  on  the 
Rhine,  I28f. 

Bulgaria,  3,  11,  14,  208,  263- 
277,  281-285,  288ff. 

Bulgarian  church,  the,  27 if. 
Bulgarians,  264-277,  280-285. 
Bundesrat,  the  German,  81. 
‘Burgundian  gate,’  the,  105. 
Burgundy,  51. 

Butler,  R.,  quoted,  197. 

Caesar,  Julius,  8. 

Carbonari,  the,  247. 

Carinthia,  229,  244. 

Carniola,  13,  244. 

Carnot,  L.  N.  M.,  118. 
Carpathians,  the,  157,  163,  164, 
188,  191,  211. 

‘  Carpatho-Ruthenian  nation,’ 
the,  238. 

Casimir  IV,  king  of  Poland 
(1447-92),  161. 

Castlereagh,  Viscount,  5. 


INDEX 


Catholics,  in  Alsace-Lorraine, 
77,  1 13;  Croats  and  Slovenes, 
242;  French,  129;  Poles,  185; 
in  the  Rhineland,  129;  among 
the  White  Russians,  196;  in 
Zealand  Flanders,  65. 

Cattaro,  247,  254. 

Cavour,  Count  di,  247. 

Celtic  speech  and  blood,  17; 
Celtic  character  of  the  Left 
Bank,  118. 

Census-takers,  perversions  of 
fact  by,  17,  44,  159,  170,  173L, 
213,  232 f.,  249 f.,  282,  283. 

Central  Africa,  283. 

Central  Commission  for  the 
Navigation  of  the  Rhine,  the, 
1 2 1  ff . ,  150. 

Central  Territorial  Commission, 
the,  30. 

Ceramic  wares,  54,  137. 

Cereals,  53. 

Champs-Elysees,  the,  4. 

Charlemagne,  201. 

Charles,  emperor  of  Austria, 
106,  207,  209. 

Charles  V,  Holy  Roman  em¬ 
peror,  51,  78,  201. 

Charlotte,  grand  duchess  of 
Luxemburg,  58,  60. 

Chatalja,  lines  of,  285. 

Chateau-Thierry,  5. 

Chemical  products,  54. 

Cheradame,  A.,  205,  n.  1,  228. 

Chiches,  the,  250. 

Cisleithania,  203-229. 

Civil  War,  the,  15. 

Clemenceau,  G.,  26,  27,  107, 
128. 

Cleves,  66,  125. 

Coal,  13,  53,  58,  61,  77,  80,  101, 
112,  1 13,  117,  131,  134-148, 
152,  186,  197,  221. 


295 

Code,  German  civil,  of  1900, 
"3- 

Code  Napoleon,  the,  126. 

Colmar,  89. 

Cologne,  archbishopric  of,  124. 

Colonial  rivalries,  20. 

Comite  d’Etudes,  the,  23,  35, 

1 15,  1 16,  151,  152. 

Comite  de  la  Rive  Gauche  du 
Rhin,  1 18. 

Commissions,  28-31. 

Committees,  special,  29,  30. 

Communication,  related  to 
boundary  problems,  12. 

Concordat  of  1801,  the,  113. 

Condominium,  in  Moresnet,  57; 
on  the  Scheldt,  63!?.;  suggest¬ 
ed,  in  Lorraine,  112. 

‘Congress  Kingdom’  of  Poland, 
the,  158,  159,  171,  195,  197. 

Connecticut,  76. 

Consciousness  of  kind,  13, 16,90. 

Consistency,  Bismarck  on,  212. 

Constance,  Lake  of,  122. 

Constantinople,  242,  271,  278, 
282,  284,  285^,  290. 

Constanza,  276. 

Constitution  of  the  United 
States,  the,  32. 

Convention  of  1787,  the,  32. 

Copper,  1 13. 

Cotton  manufacture,  54,  76. 

Council  of  Five,  the,  27,  30,  33. 

Council  of  Four,  the  27-30,  33, 

5°.  _ 

Council  of  Ten,  the,  258".,  29, 
3°>  33>  42,  50,  68. 

Cracow,  164. 

Croatia,  233,  241  f.,  257. 

Croats,  233,  24 if.,  246,  250,  253, 
257,  258. 

Crown  of  St.  Stephen,  lands  of 
the,  214,  n.  1. 


INDEX 


296 

Crown  of  St.  Wenceslaus,  lands 
of  the,  219. 

‘Culture/  propagation  of,  in 
Hungary,  233;  in  Macedonia, 
272;  in  Schleswig,  39. 
Currency,  depreciation  of,  48. 
Curzola,  248. 

Cyprus,  278. 

Cyrillic  characters,  241. 
Czecho-Slovakia,  12,  156,  188, 
210,  213-222,  237!.,  287. 
Czecho-Slovaks,  207,  208,  209, 
212,  228. 

Czechs,  166,  202,  213-222. 
Dacia,  239. 

Dalmatia,  29,  244,  245b,  247, 
248,  251-256,  260,  261,  262. 
Danish-Americans,  letter  of 
President  Wilson  to,  42. 
Danish  language,  the,  17,  37, 

39f- 

Dannevirke,  the,  42. 

Danton,  G.  J.,  1 18. 

Danube,  the,  12,  20,  225,  237, 
240,  268. 

Danzig,  21,  157,  161,  173,  n.  1, 
180-185,  223. 

Darmstadt,  97. 

Davis,  N.  H.,  24. 

Dedeagach,  266. 

Delaware,  37. 

Delbriick,  H.,  quoted,  187^ 
Demilitarization  of  the  Left 
Bank,  130. 

Denis,  E.,  quoted,  127. 
Denmark,  37-47,  48,  72- 
Dillon,  E.  J.,  25,  n.  1,  34. 
Dinaric  Alps,  the,  244. 
Disraeli,  B.,  154. 

District  of  Columbia,  the,  145. 
Divide  et  imp  era,  191,  205. 
Dixon,  W.  M.,  23. 


Dnieper,  the,  157,  161,  164,  182, 
196. 

Dniester,  the,  182. 

Dobrudja,  the,  266,  276,  290. 

Dodecanesus,  the,  278. 

Doge  of  Venice,  the,  252. 

Donon,  Mount,  88. 

Doubs,  the,  105. 

Drafting  Commission,  the,  36. 

Drang  nach  Osten,  the  Germanic, 
160. 

Drave,  the,  223. 

Drin,  the,  260,  280. 

Dualism,  in  Austria-Hungary, 
203f.,  234. 

Dunkirk,  90. 

Dux  Dalmatiae,  252. 

Dvina,  the,  157,  164. 

Eastern  Galicia,  189-195. 

‘Eastern  Marches,’  the,  of 
Prussia,  173,  187. 

Eastern  Thrace,  266,  281,  282, 
284,  285b 

East  Friesland,  66. 

East  India  Company,  Austria 
likened  to,  203. 

East  Prussia,  12,  158,  161,  162, 
179,  180,  185. 

Echo  de  Paris,  the,  128. 

Economic  problems,  commis¬ 
sions  on,  28. 

Egypt,  14,  212. 

Eider,  the,  37,  42,  43,  44. 

Eiffel,  mountain  range  of  the,  55. 

Elector  Palatine,  the,  133. 

Elsenborn,  camp  of,  55,  130. 

Enclaves,  78,  134,  159,  176,  282. 

England,  25,  27,  47,  67,  71,  87, 
120,  129,  153,  172,  241,  248, 
281,  285,  286.  See  Great 
Britain. 

Enos-Midia  line,  the,  265. 


INDEX  297 


Epinal,  105. 

Epirotes,  279. 

Epirus,  278ff. 

Eteimbes,  88. 

‘Ethnographic  Poland,’  158^-, 
164. 

‘Ethnographic  rights,’  212. 

Eugene,  Prince,  201. 

Eugenie,  Empress,  100. 

Eupen,  55,  56. 

Exarchist  church,  see  Bulgarian 
church. 

Farnese,  Alexander,  51. 

Federal  republic,  the  Polish, 
166. 

Felix  of  Bourbon-Parma,  Prince, 
60. 

Ferdinand  I,  II,  III*  Holy 
Roman  emperors,  201. 

Ferdinand,  king,  later  tsar  of 
Bulgaria,  269,  285. 

Finance,  commission  on,  28. 

Finno-Ugrian  stock,  232. 

Fiume,  9,  28,  223,  248,  251,  256- 
262,  280. 

Flanders,  60,  65b 

Flemish  language,  in  Belgium, 
48;  spoken  about  Dunkirk, 
9°. 

Flensburg,  37,  42,  46. 

Flensburg  fiord,  the,  37,  41. 

Florida,  14. 

Foch,  Marshal,  25. 

Fortresses  of  the  French  fron¬ 
tier,  demanded  by  Germany, 
I04f. 

Fortwusteln,  203. 

Fourteen  Points,  the,  21  f.,  42, 
170,  17 1,  177,  207,  209. 

France,  n,  16,  25,  27,  50,  51, 
52,  67,  7U  l3'>  r53>  J54,  i7°» 

248,259,280,285,286;  prob¬ 


lems  of  her  eastern  frontier, 

75_I52- 

Francis  I,  emperor  of  Austria, 93; 
quoted,  204^ 

Francis  II,  Holy  Roman  em¬ 
peror,  see  Francis  I,  emperor 
of  Austria. 

Frankenholz,  142. 

Frankfort,  treaty  of  (1871),  75, 
80,  103,  108,  109,  no,  120. 
Frankish  empire,  the,  51,  119. 
Frederick  the  Great,  king  of 
Prussia,  178. 

Freeman,  E.  A.,  120,  254. 

French  Foreign  Office,  the,  24. 
French  Revolution,  the,  5,  52, 

57>  63>  85>  92>  9Sf->  99»  I2°> 
124,  125,  133,  134,  i38- 
Frisian  islands,  the,  37. 

Frisians,  38. 

Frontiers,  geographical  ele¬ 
ments  of,  1  iff.;  human  ele¬ 
ments  in  frontier-making,  13- 
20;  as  affected  by  hopes  of  the 
future,  2of.;  bibliography,  35. 
Fustel  de  Coulanges,  N.D.,  115; 
quoted,  96. 

Galicia,  158,  159,  160,  188-195, 
199,  210,  238. 

Gaul,  Roman,  118. 

Gauls,  86,  88. 

Geislautern,  136. 

‘Geographic  Poland,’  158. 
German  Austria,  209^,  213,  217, 
218,  222-229. 

German  Bohemia,  proposed  re¬ 
public  of,  216. 

German  colonies,  the,  14,  21. 
German  East  Africa,  71. 
German  Gate,  the,  at  Metz,  83. 
Germanic  invasions,  the,  119. 
Germanization,  39,  173,  174^- 


298 


INDEX 


German  minorities,  in  Austria, 
203-206;  in  the  Baltic  prov¬ 
inces,  17;  in  the  Banat,  240; 
in  Belgium,  18;  in  Bohemia, 
15,  18,  215,  216-222;  in 
Hungary,  233;  in  Moravia, 
216;  in  North  Schleswig,  46; 
in  Poland,  15,  166,  172,  173- 
188;  in  Transylvania,  239; 
in  Upper  Silesia,  212,  216. 

Germany,  3,  6,  7,  8,  11,  14,  16, 
21,  33,  48E  50,  51,  61,  7of., 
154,  i57>  l6o>  I9U  !97>  !98> 
206,  207,  218,  226-228,  243, 
264;  adjustment  of  Danish 
frontier,  37-47;  of  Belgian 
frontier,  49,  54-57;  of  French 
frontier,  75-152;  of  Polish 
frontier,  172-188. 

Ghent,  64. 

Gibraltar,  281. 

Gladstone,  W.  E.,  154. 

Gorizia,  244,  247,  248,  249,  251. 

Governing  Commission,  the,  in 
the  Saar  district,  1 44-1 50. 

Governing  Commission,  for  the 
Rhenish  territories,  see  Inter- 
Allied  Rhineland  High  Com¬ 
mission. 

Gradisca,  244. 

Grand  Trianon,  treaty  of  the 
(192°),  3,  237,  n.  1. 

Great  Britain,  122,  131,  132, 
170,  280.  See  England. 

Greater  Greece,  156. 

Greater  Roumania,  156. 

Greece,  28,  156,  264,  265,  266, 
267,  277-287,  289^ 

Greek  church,  the,  271. 

Greeks,  the,  16,  266,  268,  269, 
272,  278-287. 

Gribble,  F.,  quoted,  209. 

Grodno,  province  of,  196. 


Guelders,  Prussian,  125. 

Guizot,  F.  P.  G.,  154F 

Gypsies,  268. 

Halicz,  principality  of,  160. 

Hamburg,  54,  182. 

Hapsburg,  house  of,  51,  78,  79, 
94,  98,  201  ff.,  209,  219,  222, 
249,  256. 

Haskins,  C.  H.,  29. 

Haut-Rhin,  department  of  the, 
1 T4- 

Hawaii,  14. 

Headlam-Morley,  J.  W.,  29. 

Heligoland,  47. 

Hellenic  nation,  the,  278f. 

Henderson,  A.,  207. 

Hesse,  121,  124. 

High  German,  the  official  lan¬ 
guage  in  Germany,  90. 

Historical  Section  of  the  British 
Foreign  office,  the,  23. 

‘Historic  rights,’  21  if. 

Hoboken,  7. 

Hofer,  Andreas,  225. 

Hohenzollern,  house  of,  94,  98, 
162. 

Hohe  Tauern,  the,  225. 

Holland,  11,  49,  51,  52,  54,  57. 
60-70,  93,  1 18,  121,  122. 

Holstein,  38. 

Holy  Roman  Empire,  the,  78, 
84,  92ff.,  120. 

Homburg,  in  the  Palatinate, 
146. 

Hoover,  H.,  5,  25. 

Hostenbach,  142. 

House,  E.  M.,  23. 

Hugo,  Victor,  154. 

Hundred  Days,  the,  135. 

Hundred  Years’  War,  the,  be¬ 
tween  Poland  and  the  Teu¬ 
tonic  Knights,  1 61 . 


INDEX 


299 


Hungary,  3,  6,  210,  212,  213, 
226,  231-243,  244,  246,  256, 

257,  258)  259)  277- 

Ill,  the,  76. 

Immanent  justice,  idea  of  an, 

x53-  .  .  _ 

Imperial  Colonization  Commis¬ 
sion,  the,  174. 

Indemnities,  6,  ill. 

India,  212,  286. 

Industrialism,  modern,  12. 
‘Inquiry,’  the,  23. 

Intendant,  the,  95. 

Inter-Allied  Rhineland  High 
Commission,  the,  131,  150. 
International  administration, 21, 

285. 

International  Commission,  on 
the  Schleswig  plebiscites,  44. 
International  servitudes,  68. 
Ireland,  14,  15*  2I2>  24x- 
Iron,  13,  54,  58>  59)  77)  84>  85> 
101-104,  106,  1 12,  1 13,  1 16, 

137)  x97- 

Istria,  244, 247,248,249, 250, 25 1 . 
Italia  Irredenta,  156. 

Italianitd,  245. 

Italy,  1 1,  25,  27,  50,  90,  93,  122, 
153,  158,  17°)  2I°)  2I3)  224f-) 
244-262,  278,  280,  281,  287. 

Japan,  25,  50. 

Japanese,  at  the  Peace  Con¬ 
ference,  25,  28. 

Jefferson,  Thomas,  quoted,  154. 
Jena,  battle  of,  187. 

Jews,  15,  19,  1 13,  x59)  l66)  i89) 
194,  268. 

Joseph  II,  Holy  Roman  em¬ 
peror  (1765-90),  201. 

Julian  Alps,  the,  244,  249. 
Jutland,  37. 


Kamieniec,  164. 

Kansas,  158. 

Karl,  see  Charles. 

Karolyi,  Count,  236,  237. 

Karst  Mountains,  the,  244,  249. 

Kehl,  122. 

Key  deposits  of  minerals,  dis¬ 
posal  of,  18,  i4of. 

Keynes,  J.  M.,  27,  n.  1,  34,  i4&f. 

Kiel  Canal,  the,  37,  46b 

Kiev,  163. 

Klagenfurt,  213,  223b 

Kleber,  J.  B.,  96. 

Konigsberg,  180,  182. 

Komitadjis,  272,  277. 

Koritza,  278,  279,  280. 

Kosciuszko,  T.,  165. 

Kossuth,  Louis,  243. 

Kun,  Bela,  237. 

Labor  organizations,  in  the 
Saar  district,  140. 

Lamont,  T.  W.,  24. 

Lancashire,  197. 

Land,  passion  for,  10. 

Landau,  80,  120,  133,  134,  x35> 
136,  138. 

Landtag,  the,  in  Alsace-Lor¬ 
raine,  8of. 

Language,  as  an  element  in 
frontier-making,  i6ff.;  in 
Schleswig,  40;  in  Alsace- 
Lorraine,  87-92,  1 16,  1 19; 

in  Macedonia,  273;  in  North¬ 
ern  Epirus,  278f. 

Language  Union,  the,  in  Schles¬ 
wig,  40. 

Latin  colonies  and  language,  m 
Dalmatia,  245. 

Latin-Dalmatian  communes,  the, 
252. 

Lauenburg,  38. 

Lauter,  the,  80,  133,  135. 


3°° 


INDEX 


Lavisse,  E.,  23. 

Lead,  186,  197. 

League  of  Nations,  the,  3,  4, 

2of.,  33>  35)  56>  66>  7L  132, 
144-150,  183,  202,  227,  281. 
Left  Bank,  the,  54,  55,  76,  in, 
1 17,  118-132,  150,  1 51. 
Leipzig,  battle  of,  187. 

Lemberg,  189,  192. 

Lens,  142. 

Leopold  I  (of  Saxe-Coburg), 
king  of  the  Belgians  (1 831— 

.65),  52- 

Liberia,  50. 

Liberty,  a  privilege,  14. 

Libre  Parole ,  the,  128. 

Liege,  55,  62,  120. 

Liepvrette,  the,  88. 

Ligne,  Prince  de,  201;  quoted, 
4- 

Limburg,  13,  55,  6off.,  66. 
Limestone,  102. 

Lissa,  248,  256. 

“Litany  of  the  Polish  Pilgrim,” 
by  Mickiewicz,  155. 
Lithuania,  161,  i62ff.,  165,  168, 
172,  196,  200. 

Lithuanians,  15,  159,  168, 

169. 

Little  Russian  race,  the,  189. 
Livonia,  163. 

Lloyd  George,  D.,  27,  188. 
Lotzen,  174. 

London,  54,  206;  treaty  of 
(1830,52;  (1913),  265;  (1915), 
248f. 

Longwy,  103,  104,  1 1 2. 
Lorraine,  13,  76ff.,  79,  87,  88, 
89,  9L  93)  94)  95)  96)  101-104, 
n7)  !32)  J33)  135)  142. 

See  Alsace-Lorraine. 

Lorraine,  duchy  of,  78,  133. 
Losheim,  147. 


Louis  XIV,  king  of  France,  78, 
79)  92)  96)  98)  99)  11 8,  120, 
133- 

Louis  XV,  king  of  France,  78. 

Low  Countries,  the,  157. 

Lower  Alsace,  81,  89. 

Lower  Austria,  223. 

Low  German  dialects,  90. 

Lunatics,  proselyting  of,  217. 

Luxemburg,  49,  54,  55,  57-60, 
61,  69,  72,  76,  102,  129. 

Lvov,  Prince,  17 1. 

Lyck,  circle  of,  174. 

McCormick,  V.,  24. 

Macedonia,  178,  266-275,  284, 
289^ 

Maestricht,  61,  62,  120. 

‘Magnificent  community’  of 
Fiume,  the,  256. 

Magyarization,  234!?.,  258. 

Magyars,  166,  203,  209,  21 1, 
212,  214,  n.  1,  215,  216,  231- 
243)  246,  256,  257,  258,  259, 
260,  26 if. 

Mainz,  archbishopric  of,  124. 

Majority  Socialists,  the,  in  Prus¬ 
sia,  129. 

Malmedy,  56. 

Malta,  247,  256. 

Mandates,  281,  285. 

Manin,  D.,  247. 

Mannesmann,  family,  137. 

Mannheim,  121,  122. 

Mantoux,  P.,  27. 

Maria  Theresia,  empress-queen, 
201,  256. 

Marie  Adelheid,  grand  duchess 
of  Luxemburg,  58. 

Marienwerder  district,  the,  180, 
n.  1,  184^ 

Marne,  the,  4. 

Maros,  the,  240. 


INDEX 


3QI 


Marseillaise,  the,  96. 

Marseilles,  182,  259. 

Mary,  heiress  of  Burgundy,  51. 

Maximilian  of  Austria,  51. 

Mazuria,  180,  n.  1,  185. 

Mazzini,  G.,  154,  247,  256,  261, 
287. 

Mediterranean  racial  type,  the, 

16. 

Meersen,  partition  of  (870),  120. 

Meran,  225. 

Mercury  mines,  13. 

Metkovic,  260. 

Metz,  78,  81,  83f.,  85,  89,  101, 
120. 

Meuse,  the,  55,  60,  62,  63,  69, 
70,  105,  1 1 9. 

Meyer’s  Handlexicon ,  quoted, 

.  9.5-  . 

Mickiewicz,  A.,  155,  165,  203. 

Middle  kingdom,  the,  of  the 
Frankish  empire,  5of. 

Miller,  D.  H.,  24,  34. 

Mineral  resources,  13,  53,  77, 
H2f.,  186,  197,  221,  231. 

Minetteiron  field,  77, 102ff.,  112. 

Minnesota,  158. 

Minorities,  problems  of,  15. 

Minority  Socialists,  in  Ger¬ 
many,  106. 

Minsk,  164;  province  of,  196. 

Mitteleuropa,  20,  207. 

Model  dwellings,  137. 

Mors,  county  of,  125. 

Mohammedans,  19,  242,  278, 
282. 

Mommsen,  T.,  8. 

Mongols,  the,  160. 

Montalembert,  Comte  de,  154. 

Montenegro,  265,  269. 

Montreux,  88. 

Moravia,  212,  213,  216,  218, 
219,  223. 


Moresnet,  district  of,  57. 
Morier,  Sir  Robert,  quoted,  97f. 
Morlaks,  the,  250. 

Morocco,  28. 

Moselle,  the,  76,  101,  105,  122, 
Hi- 

Moselle,  department  of  the,  114. 
Moslems,  see  Mohammedans. 
Mountains,  as  frontiers,  nf. 
Munster,  3. 

Mulhouse,  76,  78,  79,  89. 
Munich,  140,  145. 

Muscovites,  165,  285. 

Nahe,  the,  124. 

Namier,  L.  B.,  182,  n.  1. 

Nancy,  112. 

Napoleon  I,  3,  79,  84,  135,  202. 
Napoleon  III,  38,  84. 

Nassau,  house  of,  52;  Luxem¬ 
burg  branch,  57,  58,  60. 
National  Councils,  in  the  former 
Austrian  territories,  209. 
Nationalities,  Hungarian  law  of, 
234- 

Nationality,  principle  of,  1  gf., 
24 3.  265,  288. 

Natural  resources,  importance 
of,  I2f. 

Naval  Intelligence  Division,  the 
British,  23. 

Negroes,  in  America,  15. 
Netherlands,  the,  51,  122. 
Neuilly,  treaty  of  (1919),  3,  264, 
285,289. 

Neutrality,  Belgian,  66-69. 
‘Neutral  schools,’  114. 

New  York,  7. 

Ney,  M.,  96,  138. 

Niemen,  the,  182. 

Nord,  department  of  the,  139. 
North  Albanians,  280. 

Northern  Epirus,  278fF.,  290. 


3°2 


INDEX 


North  Schleswig,  19,  37-48,  72. 

North  Schleswig  Voters’  Union, 
the,  40,  42. 

North  Sea,  the,  42,  62. 

Norway,  44. 

Oder,  the,  1 59. 

Oetzthaler  Alps,  the,  225. 

Oil  wells,  77,  1 13. 

Oldenburg,  duke  of,  124. 

Orlando,  V.  E.,  27. 

Orthodox,  in  Albania,  278 ;  Serbs, 
242;  among  the  White  Rus¬ 
sians,  196. 

Osnabriick,  3. 

Ottweiler,  139. 

Pacific  Ocean,  the,  9,  191. 

Paderewski,  I.  J.,  165. 

Palatinate,  the  Bavarian,  76, 

124,  129,  j36>  l37>  l39>  HO, 

141,  146. 

Palestine,  19. 

Panama,  50,  281. 

Panama  Canal,  the,  47. 

Pan-Germanism,  105,  208,  287. 

Pannonian  basin,  the,  231. 

Paris,  treaty  of  (1814),  134b; 
conference  of  (1815),  3;  peace 
conference  at  (1919),  3-35, 
et  passim. 

Partitions  of  Poland,  the,  163, 
164,  165,  168,  169,  177,  178, 
180,  1 8 1,  189,  197. 

Pas-de-Calais,  department  of, 

'39- 

Patois,  local,  90. 

Patriarch,  the  Greek,  282. 

Patriarchist  church,  see  Greek 
church. 

Pechelbronn,  77. 

Pennsylvania,  53. 

Petlura,  S.,  194. 


Petroleum,  197.  See  Oil. 

Philip  II,  king  of  Spain,  51. 

Philippines,  the,  14. 

Piasts,  house  of  the,  159,  163. 

Pichon,  G.,  26. 

Pilsudski,  J.,  165. 

Pirot-Tsaribrod  basin,  the,  277. 

Pius  IX,  pope  (1846-78),  154. 

Plebiscites,  18,  35,  42-46,  60, 
106-109,  T7 3)  184-187,  188. 

Pliny  the  Elder,  5. 

Poincare,  R.,  107. 

Pola,  255. 

Poland,  12,  19,  28,  39,  91,  153- 
200,  210,  287. 

Poles,  209,  212. 

Polonization,  i63ff. 

Pomaks,  282,  283. 

Pomerania,  159,  160. 

Pont-a-Mousson,  141. 

Porto  Lago,  266. 

Posen  (Posnania),  158,  177E, 
184,  188. 

Potash,  13,  77,  101,  1 12. 

Prague,  218;  treaty  of  (1866), 

38. 

Presburg,  237. 

Prescription,  notion  of,  19. 

Protestants,  in  Alsace,  77,  96, 
1 13 ;  in  Mazuria,  185. 

Prothero,  G.  W.,  23,  35. 

Provence,  90. 

Prussia,  17,  19,  38,  39,  40,  54b, 
57,  58,  66,  67,  80,  82,  93, 
117,  121,  125,  126,  132,  135, 
136,  144,  146,  150,  159,  160, 
167,  171,  172,  173-188,  205, 
287. 

Quadruple  Alliance,  the,  236. 

Quai  d’Orsay,  the,  24,  27. 

Quarnero,  gulf  of,  247,  249. 

Queich,  the,  80. 


INDEX  303 


Race,  15E  86f.,  119,  159,  n.  1. 
Radical  party,  the,  in  Den¬ 
mark,  4 2,  45. 

Ragusa,  245,  254,  260. 

Railroad  lines,  as  related  to 
frontier  problems,  12,  55,  176, 
180,  1 84b,  223,  260,  276, 

277. 

Ranke,  L.  von,  quoted,  98. 
Rationing,  problems  of,  5. 
Ratzel,  F.,  254. 

Reformation,  the,  79. 

Reichsrat,  Austrian,  250,  252. 
Reichstag,  the  German,  40,  46, 
80,  81,  83,  108,  145. 

Religious  toleration,  in  Poland, 
166. 

Renan,  E.,  yf. 

Reparation,  commission  on,  28, 
142b 

‘Republic  of  the  Great  U- 
kraine,’  the,  194. 

‘Republic  of  the  Western  U- 
kraine,’  the,  192. 
Revolutionary  covenant  of  1790, 
in  France,  138. 

Rheinprovinz,  the,  124-132, 136, 
140,  141. 

Rhenish  Prussia,  see  Rhein¬ 
provinz. 

Rhenus  finis  Germaniae ,  118. 
Rhine,  the,  12,  16,  20,  50,  55, 
66,  76,  82,  92,  96,  101,  1 14, 
U7-I32,  15°,  1 51. 

Rhine  frontier,  the,  29,  119,  128. 
Rhine-Scheldt  canal,  proposed, 
62. 

Rhode  Island,  76,  146. 

Rhone,  the,  93,  182. 

Right  Bank,  the,  hi,  123,  127, 

1 31- 

Rio  Grande,  the,  10. 
Risorgimento,  the,  247. 


Rivers,  unite  rather  than  divide, 
12. 

Rochling,  family,  137. 

Romans,  the,  166,  239. 

Rome,  rule  of,  in  Dalmatia,  245, 
246,  252. 

Roosevelt,  T.,  quoted,  286. 

Rotterdam,  63. 

Roumania,  3,  28,  156,  210, 
238ff.,  262,  264,  265,  266,  276, 
277,  287. 

Roumanians,  209,  233,  238ff., 
276. 

Rubens,  26. 

Ruhr,  region  of  the,  13 1. 

Rumenes,  the,  250. 

Russia,  11,  67,  156,  157,  158, 
159,  169,  171F,  191,  195-198, 
206,  207,  248,  265,  267,  270, 
285,  287. 

Russians,  15,  17,  166,  194. 

Russification,  163. 

Ruthenians,  189-195,  233,  238. 

Ryksvlaanderen,  65. 

Saar,  the,  120,  133. 

Saar  basin  (valley,  district),  the, 
13,21,29,76, 77,  80,  101,  1 17, 
120,  125,  132-152,  186,  223. 

Saarbriicken,  133,  134,  135,  136, 
137,  !39i  county  of,  133. 

Saar  Commission,  see  Govern¬ 
ing  Commission,  the,  in  the 
Saar  district. 

Saarholzbach,  146. 

Saarlouis,  78,  80,  120,  133,  134, 

135.  *38,  1.39- 

Saint-Germain-en-Laye,  treaty 

of  (i9|9)>  3>  2I3- 

St.  Sophia,  285. 

St.  Thomas,  14. 

St.  Vith,  territory  of,  54. 

Salisbury,  Lord,  154. 


304 


INDEX 


Salonica,  277. 

Salt  mines,  77. 

San  Marco,  lion  of,  246. 

San  Stefano,  treaty  of  (1878), 
267. 

Saone,  the,  105. 

Sarrebourg,  88. 

Sarreguemines,  146. 

Saxony,  54,  125,  135. 

Scandinavia,  11,  87. 

Scheldt,  the,  60,  62-66,  68,  69. 

Schlei,  the,  43,  44. 

Schleswig,  17,  37-48,  72.. 

Schleswig-Holstein  question,  the, 

38- 

School  Union,  the,  in  Schleswig, 
40. 

Schrader,  F.,  120. 

Schumacher,  H.,  quoted,  103, 
n.  1. 

Schwob,  16. 

Scotch  mill-worker,  anecdote 
of  a,  7. 

Scott,  J.  B.,  24. 

Scotus  Viator,  see  Seton-Wat- 
son. 

Sea,  access  to  the,  importance 
of,  12. 

Seigniorial  rights,  95. 

Self-determination,  1 3ff-,  34>  46, 
i4of.,  238. 

Sensburg,  174. 

Separation  Laws,  the,  in  France, 

Separatist  tendencies,  in  Rhen¬ 
ish  Prussia,  129. 

Serbia,  n,  2404.,  261,  264,  265, 
266,  267,  269-275,  277,  280. 

Serbs,  233,  2404.,  266,  268-275, 
280. 

Seton-Watson,  R.  W.,  262. 

Shkypetars,  279. 

Siam,  50. 


Siberia,  207. 

Sick  Man  on  the  Bosporus,  the, 
263. 

Sierck,  78. 

Silesia,  158,  159,  160,  213,  219. 
See  Austrian  Silesia,  Upper 
Silesia. 

Silistria,  276. 

Slovakia,  222. 

Slovaks,  213-222,  233,  237. 
Slovenes,  223b,  241  f.,  246,  249, 
250,  251. 

Social  insurance,  137,  145. 
Sonderjylland,  37,  72. 

Sofia,  263,  271,  272,  277,  282. 
Somme,  the,  104. 

Southern  Albania,  2784.,  290. 
Southern  Dobrudja,  the,  266, 
276. 

Southern  Slavs,  the,  268-278. 

See  Yugo-Slavs. 

Sovereign  Council,  the,  95. 
Spain,  51,  63. 

Spalato,  253b 

Spanish  Netherlands,  the,  5 2,63. 
Spanish  peninsula,  the,  11. 
Speier,  140;  bishopric  of,  124, 

x33- 

Stanislas  Leszcynski,  king  of 
Poland,  duke  of  Lorraine,  78. 
State,  Polish  conception  of  the, 
i67- 

Statistical  Commission,  the,  of 
the  Congress  of  Vienna,  22. 
Statthalter,  the,  in  Alsace-Lor¬ 
raine,  80,  81. 

Stavelot-Malmedy,  abbey  of,  54. 
Steed,  H.  W.,  228;  quoted,  202, 
243- 

Stephen  Dushan,  Serbian  em¬ 
peror,  270. 

Stettin,  182. 

Straits,  the,  265,  283,  290. 


INDEX 


3°5 


Strasburg,  79,  80,  81,  83,  89,  96, 
107,  120. 

Strumica,  valley  of  the,  266, 
276b 

Stumm,  family,  136,  137. 
Submarine  bases,  65,  255. 

Suez  Canal,  the,  47. 

Sugar  refineries,  125. 

Sultan,  the,  265,  286. 

Super-state,  the,  150. 

Supreme  Council,  the,  225. 

Susak,  259. 

Sweden,  44,  45. 

Swedes,  165. 

Switzerland,  76,  79,  91,  93,  118, 
121,  122,  222,  236. 

Sylt,  island  of,  42. 

Szepes,  see  Zips. 

Talleyrand,  4. 

Tardieu,  A.,  29,  34,  151. 

Tartars,  165,  166,  167. 

Taussig,  F.  W.,  24. 

Teaching  religious  orders,  114. 
Temesvdr,  240. 

Terneuzen  canal,  the,  64. 
Teschen,  13,  158,  188,  213. 
Teutonic  Knights,  the,  160,  161, 
162,  178,  185. 

Teutonic  racial  type,  the,  16,  86, 
87,  1 19. 

Texas,  14. 

Theiss,  the,  240. 

Thionville,  88. 

This,  C.,  88,  1 16. 

Thirty  Years’  War,  the,  79. 
Thomas  process,  the,  102,  103. 
Thorn,  peace  of  (1466),  161. 
Thrace,  266,  277,  278,  281-285, 
29°. 

Three  Bishoprics,  province  of 
the,  78,  120. 

Tobacco,  76. 


Tonder,  46. 

Toul,  78,  105. 

Trajan,  Roman  emperor  (98- 

”7).  239-. 

Transleithania,  231-243. 
Transportation,  problems  of,  5* 
Transylvania,  239,  240. 

Trad,  248. 

Trentino,  the,  224,  247. 

Tribal  duchies,  92b,  120. 

Trier,  140;  archbishopric  of, 
124. 

Trieste,  244,  245,  247,  248,  249, 
251. 

Trois  EvSches,  78. 

Tsars,  Bulgarian,  269. 
Turanians,  268,  269. 

Turkey,  6,  14,  33,  242,  263,  265, 
266,  267,  269,  270,  281-287, 
290. 

Turko-Tartar  stock,  232. 

Turks,  165,  167,  201,  268,  270, 
271,  272,  281,  282,  283,  285, 
286. 

Tyrol,  the,  224b,  248. 

Uskub,  270. 

Ukraine,  the,  163,  165,  168,  172, 

1 91,  193,  194,  i99f- 
‘Ukrainian  idea,’  the,  191. 
Ukrainians,  159,  160,  168,  169, 
189,  191-194,  196,  209,  210. 
Ukrainophiles,  193. 

Ulster,  15. 

United  Netherlands,  the,  .51. 
United  States,  the,  at  the  Peace 
Conference,  4f.,  7,  14>  J9>  %!*■ 
23b,  25ff.,  29,  3off.,  261,  280; 
indisposed  to  accept  a  man¬ 
date  for  Albania,  281;  or 
for  Constantinople,  285b 
Upper  Alsace,  13,  76,  81,  88,  89, 
91,  101,  105,  109,  1 12. 


INDEX 


3°6 

Upper  Austria,  223. 

Upper  Silesia,  13,  45,  91,  i85f., 
197,  212. 

Urals,  the,  157. 

Utrecht,  treaty  of  (1713),  52- 

Valenciennes,  142. 

Valona,  see  Avlona. 

Varna,  276. 

Vauban,  135,  138. 

Velebite  Mountains,  the,  244. 

Venetia,  247,  249. 

Venetia  Julia,  249. 

Venice,  245,  246,  252,  255,  256. 

Venizelos,  E.,  277  f.,  281,  283. 

Verdun,  78,  105,  120. 

Versailles,  preliminaries  of 
(1871),  75,  103;  treaty  of 

(i919)>  3,  3U  7 5>  H5>  146, 
148,  172,  177U,  186,  213,  227. 

Vieille  Montagne,  57. 

Vienna,  192,  209,  222,  226,  233, 
246;  congress  of  (1814-15), 
3,4,  8,22,32,  52,  66,  124,  158; 
treaty  of  (1738),  78;  treaty 
of  (1815),  32,  57,  63,79b,  120, 
121,125;  treaty  of  (1864),  38. 

Viribus  unitis ,  205. 

Vistula,  the,  160,  161,  178,  182, 
184. 

Vlachs,  268. 

Volhynia,  province  of,  196. 

Vosges,  the,  76,  84,  85,  101,  119. 

JVacke,  16. 

Wadern,  147. 

Wallenstein,  A.  E.  von,  201. 

Walloon  language,  56;  Walloon 
portion  of  Luxemburg,  57. 

Walther  von  der  Vogelweide, 
225. 

Warsaw,  154,  164,  171,  185. 

War-weariness,  4ff.,  206. 

Washington,  206. 


Waterloo,  battle  of,  79, 154,  187. 

Waterways,  commission  on,  28. 

Webster,  C.  K.,  35;  cited,  4. 

Wedding  of  the  sea,  the,  by 
Venice,  252. 

Weiss,  the,  88. 

Weisskirchen,  147. 

‘Welsh,’  1 6. 

Wesel,  66. 

Western  Galicia,  189. 

Western  Thrace,  266,  277,  281- 
285. 

Westphalia,  125b,  141,  148. 

Westphalia,  treaty  of  (1698),  3, 
63,  78,  79,  93- 

West  Prussia,  12, 1 58, 161, 178b, 
181,  184. 

Wharton,  Henry,  quoted,  154. 

White  Russia,  163,  168,  200. 

White  Russians,  159,  196. 

William  I,  German  emperor, 
quoted,  100. 

William  II,  German  emperor, 
84,  207. 

Wilno,  163,  164;  province  of, 
196. 

Wilson,  Woodrow,  3,  7,  14,  I9> 
21,  23,  26,  27,  31,  42,  49,  68, 
75,  106,  109,  150,  170,  207, 
208,  261,  275. 

Wissembourg,  134. 

Wittelsheim,  77. 

Worms,  bishopric  of,  124. 

Young,  A.  A.,  24. 

Yugo-Slavia,  156,  210,  241b, 
244-262,  280,  287. 

Yugo-Slavs,  208,  209,  213,  223, 
224,  244-262. 

Zabern  affair,  the,  82. 

Zanzibar,  47. 

Zara,  252,  253,  254,  256. 

Zbrucz,  the,  192. 


INDEX 


307 


Zealand  Flanders,  65F 
Zillerthaler  Alps,  the,  225. 
Zimmermann  note,  the,  14. 
Zinc,  186,  197. 

Zinc  mine  of  Vieille  Montagne, 

57- 


Zinc  works,  54. 

Zips,  188,  213. 

Zollverein,  German,  58,  59,  129. 
Zweibriicken,  137;  house  of, 

124,  133- 


s 


